


Trivia Night with a Side of Cthulhu

by narigonia



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BAMF Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Ceiling Vent Clint Barton, Cthulhu Mythos, Fluff and Humor, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, M/M, Modern Bucky Barnes, POV Multiple, Professor Bucky Barnes, Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Rebecca Barnes, Rebecca Barnes is Gift, Rebecca Barnes is a BAMF, Shrunkyclunks, Steve Rogers is Bad at Flirting, Thor is a great wingman, War Veteran Bucky Barnes, bar trivia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-04-04 10:17:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14018094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narigonia/pseuds/narigonia
Summary: After Avengers movie night falls through again Clint drags Sam and Steve to a local dive bar for some trivia.Run by a super-smart, extra salty vet with a cyborg arm and his equally snarky sister, trivia soon becomes Steve's new obsession. Only because he wants to win though.It has nothing, NOTHING to do with the stormy gray eyes of his host, or the thick framed glasses the man wears, or even the fact that his cheekbones make Steve's fingers itch for a pencil.It's just a friendly game of bar trivia...right?





	1. Speak Softly and Carry a Big Stick

**Author's Note:**

> I promised myself I wouldn't start posting this until I had the entire story written, but here we are. As it stands, I'm about halfway through so I'm hoping to get this up in its entirety pretty quickly!
> 
> Big shout-out to my local bar trivia host for being the inspiration I needed to conceive of a slightly hipster, all professor Bucky Barnes. Your skinny jeans and man bun are truly a gift to this world.
> 
> Non-beta'd so please let me know if you see any mistakes! I'm always trying to improve my writing. And hey, if you like this one drop a comment or leave a kudos.

For the fourth time in a row, mandatory team movie night consisted of just Steve, Sam, and Clint.

Clearly, the word “mandatory” didn’t mean the same thing to every Avenger.

The whole movie night thing had been Stark’s idea in the first place and he hadn’t even bothered to send a snarky non-apology text for skipping out _again_.

As it stood, Sam and Steve were debating between watching either _Predator_ or _Alien_. Both of them were on Steve's list, but neither Steve nor Sam felt particularly enthusiastic about watching either, which had lead to a lot of hemming and hawing.

“We’ve already lived through an alien attack, so I don’t see how either of these movies can be that scary,” reasoned Steve.

“You, _you_ lived through an alien attack. I was safe in my apartment in D.C., minding my own damn business when that happened. For normal people Steve the idea of an alien attack is scary."

“Since when are you normal? You fly around strapped to metal bird wings, that’s not normal behavior Sam."

“That’s it. We’re getting out of this damn tower,” Clint announced, interrupting his teammate's bickering.

“Oh? And doing what? It’s Wednesday, not exactly the best day of the week to go out on the town," objected Sam.

“My poor, sweet, summer child. There’s always something going on in New York, even on Wednesdays.” Clint scrolled through his phone, presumably searching for something to do. “I’ve got it. Grab your jackets, we’re getting out of here.”

Which was how the three of them had ended up at a dive bar called “Bullseye” on the Upper West Side for trivia. Steve had never played trivia before, but he suspected he might not be the best person for the game considering the decades of pop culture references he was missing.

“Oh, this guy does not ask about pop culture,” Clint reassured him. The three of them had arrived ten minutes before the game was supposed to start and managed to grab the last available table in the back.

The bar was on the smaller side, with the actual bar running the full length of one wall and tables and booths pushed together in the rest of the space. At the front of the room was a smallish stage where three stools, a mic, and a speaker system were set up. A pretty young woman sat on one of the stools handing out trivia sheets.

Sam left to get a sheet while Clint ordered their drinks.

The bar didn’t have any sort of theme or gimmick like so many others did these days. Everyone seemed ready to have a good time and the overall vibe was friendly. Steve felt his shoulders relax a bit and even found himself smiling as Sam came back over to their table with a trivia sheet.

“You have a good time chatting up the host Sam?” Steve teased.

“She’s not the host, she’s the assistant or something,” Sam said. “But yes, I did.”

He smiled before sitting down and running through the trivia rules that the co-host had told him.

“On the back is an image round, you can fill that out throughout the entire game. It won’t get graded until the very end,” Sam explained.

They flipped it over and Steve lit up, the category was famous military leaders. Steve was so surprised to see a category he could conceivably know that he barely blushed when he recognized his own face among the ten photos. It was a picture of him pre-serum, which surprised him. Most people didn’t bother showing photos of scrawny Steve Rogers.

Between the three of them they had the image round filled out in less than five minutes. The pictures of Julius Caesar and Boudica had almost stumped them, but apparently Sam was really into ancient history and managed to label both.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m afraid the Professor is running a little late so I’ll be handing out the forms and generally killing time until he gets here. So while we wait... what’s the deal with that airplane food, right?” The woman grinned at her terrible stand-up attempt. There were a few friendly groans in the crowd but no one seemed too upset about the delayed start, until an asshole opened his big fat mouth and shouted “Show us your tits!”

Up on the stage the woman’s face turned white as the small table of men laughed.

Steve was on his feet in an instant. Sam was right behind him.

“Try not to do any lasting damage.” Clint advised, taking another swig of his beer as he continued to study the trivia sheet. In a flash Steve was halfway across the bar, striding swiftly towards the raucous table.

But someone else beat him there.

“Did you just sexually harass someone during _my_ trivia?” Steve hadn’t even seen the speaker enter the bar. The guy was tall, but all of his other features were obscured by his dark blue hoodie and leather jacket.

“More specifically, did you just sexually harass _my baby sister_?” Around them the bar hushed, the bartender and bouncer who had, like Steve and Sam, started towards the troublesome table slowed at the menace in the man’s voice.

It was hard to see how in the dim lighting, but in the next second the mystery man had hauled the asshole up by his collar. The asshole's two friends stood but once they got a good look at blue hoodie’s face it was clear that neither one of them was quite prepared to start something.

“Get the fuck out of here,” the man said, his voice tight with anger. “And if I ever see any of you in here again you’ll be drinking through a straw.” Then the man set the harasser down and with a well placed kick sent him flying towards the door. With some curses and posturing the two other men collected their things and left.

Up on stage the woman rolled her eyes, the fear that had flashed through now replaced by exasperation.

“Looks like the Professor made it folks.” She mock clapped and the rest of the crowd joined her with audible relief.

“That’s the trivia host?” Steve asked, incredulously. Besides him Sam shrugged.

Steve hadn’t thought they made professors like that.

The man moved over to the stage and, in one fluid movement, jumped on top. As he turned towards the room Steve felt his breath catch. Steve had seen a lot of attractive people during his time as a national icon. The charity dinners, fundraising events, and occasional PR junkets he attended were full of them. But this man… This man was something else entirely. With stormy gray eyes, high cheekbones, and scruff for days the man's entire look was... 

Well the whole thing was _really_ working for Steve.

“Alright, alright, talk among yourselves for a bit folks. Trivia will start in five,” the Professor announced. Steve watched, mesmerized, as the man stripped off his jacket and hoodie, revealing a gray Henley stretched across a muscular torso.

Steve would have stood there gawking the rest of the night if Sam hadn’t knocked against him on his way back to the table.

In the next few minutes the bar returned to normal. People chatted and laughed, Clint and Sam debated team names, and all Steve could do was stare at the host.

The man had hung his hoodie and jacket across the back of his chair and was now talking quietly with his sister. As he spoke, he shook his long, black hair out of his eyes and gathered it carefully into a messy bun at the back of his head. Then he sat down on the stool closest to the mic and withdrew a glasses case from his jacket pocket. From the case he pulled out a pair of black, thick framed glasses and slid them carefully onto his nose with his index finger.

Steve closed his mouth with an audible click.

“Alright you slubs, that’s enough talking for now. Let’s get on with it," the man announced. Immediately the bar fell silent.

“We have a few newbies here tonight,” the man’s gaze flickered over to their table. “So let’s review the rules, shall we?”

“Rule number one, no sexual harassment or I will either toss you from this bar or I will crush you with my cyborg arm. Rule number two, put your damn phones away. If I catch you using one I will crush it with my cyborg arm. I will not reimburse you for it. Rule number three, if you don’t know the answer to a question but you put down something that makes me laugh I may award you a point. That doesn’t mean put down a wrong answer, it means use your head to think up something witty and entertaining.

Lastly, make sure you put your team name at the top of the page before you turn it in. My exceptionally intelligent assistant and I will tally up your points and announce the top three teams at the end of the game when our _fabulous_ prizes will be given out.” The man’s face was perfectly straight as he announced both his rules and cyborg-related threats. Steve had the feeling that the guy was 100% serious about everything.

“This guy is...” Sam trailed off as he searched for the appropriate word.

“Fucking metal? Yeah, I know, that’s why I hired him to start trivia night,” Clint grinned and grabbed the trivia sheet away from Sam, pen at the ready as the Professor began to announce each category.

“Wait. Clint... do you own this bar?” Sam asked.

“Oh, yeah, forgot to mention that.” Clint scratched his head and smiled, not a hint of remorse in sight.

“What does he mean when he says cyborg arm?” Steve asked. Clint owning a bar on the Upper West Side wasn’t the weirdest thing he knew about the guy. He was way more interested in their host.

“He's an Army vet. He got selected to try out one of Tony’s new cybernetic prototypes. You can’t see it because he’s wearing gloves and sleeves tonight but his left arm is basically a Transformer's. We met when he was at the Tower for one of the prototype fittings. The Professor over there’s the only non-Avenger to ever find one of my hidey holes.”

“He pulled you out of the air duct didn’t he?” Sam asked dryly.

“Yep,” conceded Clint. “I took him out for lunch as a reward.” Clint shrugged, only half of his attention on the conversation. “When the bar manager wanted to start a trivia night I reached out to Barnes, he’s gotta be one of the smartest guys I know.”

Sam and Steve both raised an eyebrow at that. The Avengers weren’t a bunch of dum-dums.

Before Steve could ask more, he was interrupted by the Professor himself announcing the first question.

The trivia questions were varied and, at times, completely random. Steve was pleased to note that Clint’s assessment of the game had been correct, a knowledge of pop culture from the last 70 years didn’t give either Sam or Clint an advantage. There were just as many questions about historical figures and geography as there were about semi-modern events.

“What’s this guy a professor of?” Sam whined while the three of them bickered over what famous quote had been said by Teddy Roosevelt at the 1901 Minnesota State Fair.

“Shut-up. How should I know?” Clint whined back.

“Clint, you hired him, didn’t he fill out an application or anything?” Steve asked.

Clint shrugged and began to write, _Speak softly and suck my dick_ as their answer. Sam pulled the sheet away from him and, when the two of them would have fought over it, Steve moved in and swiped the answer sheet from both of them. Then he crossed out Clint’s answer and wrote, _Speak softly and carry a big stick._

“I think he might teach history? I can’t remember… he did tell me at some point.”

An hour later and Steve had taken over all writing duties. It probably came as no surprise to anyone, but as it turned out Steve Rogers was rather competitive when it came to games including, apparently, trivia.

“Times up boys, hand it in.” The pretty co-host swung by their table with her hand out. With a groan Steve reluctantly handed in their sheet.

“Good luck.” She winked at them, her gaze lingering on Sam for another second before she moved on to the next table.

“Sam, I think you’ve got yourself an admirer,” Steve teased.

“Yeah, just watch out for that cyborg brother of hers,” Clint cautioned, taking a big gulp of his beer.

“If you own this bar how come we didn’t get a discount?” Steve asked.

“A discount? You want a discount? The beer’s already the cheapest you’ll find in Manhattan. Some of us don’t have 70 years worth of back pay to rely on pal, I gotta support my super heroing lifestyle somehow.”

“Clint, I know for a fact that Pepper set aside money and a financial advisor for all of us when the Avengers Initiative got absorbed under SI.”

Clint blinked.

“Huh, I guess I should check my email more often," he took another gulp of beer.

As they waited for the final results, Steve couldn’t keep his eyes from wandering back to the handsome host. The man was laughing as he spoke with his sister. The action made him seem younger. The dim lighting cast shadows on his face, highlighting his killer features. Between that and the glasses, Steve was having a hard time tearing his eyes away.

“Alright the scores are tallied. This was a tight one folks. If I call your team’s name send someone up to collect your _fabulous_ prize. In third place, with a respectable 40 points is our newest team, Just Here for the Beer.” Steve grimaced at their name, it had been Clint’s idea and since he owned the bar he’d insisted on it.

“Alright man, we got third!” Sam cried and Clint jumped up to collect their prize. The trivia host nodded at Clint in recognition before reading on and announcing the first and second place teams.

“What did we win?” Steve asked, he'd missed that part of the Professor's announcement. Those glasses were really distracting.

“I don’t know, I missed that part,” said Sam.

Clearly Steve hadn't been the only one distracted by the hosts.

***

The majority of the trivia crowd had left by the time Bucky and Becca finished packing up. With a wave to the bartender and bouncer Bucky shrugged his leather jacket back on and followed his sister out the door. After the events of the night he was even happier than usual that they were headed in the same direction. Living with his sister was the perfect excuse to make sure she got home okay.

The ride back to their tiny apartment was a short one. Although they still owned their parents’ house in Brooklyn the two of them had moved closer to Columbia after Bucky had gotten into his program and Becca had transferred to the school. For now they rented out the Brooklyn house, but he knew one of them would move back eventually.

“Bucky?” Becca said after they’d gotten off the subway and walked back up and out into the street.

“Yeah?”

“You know who was at trivia tonight, right?”

“You mean besides those assholes I kicked out?”

Becca scowled, “I could have handled it myself. And you really shouldn’t be showing off like that in front of a crowd. People will start to wonder.” She was right of course, but he still didn't regret scaring the piss out of those guys.

“I know, but you shouldn’t have to face that kind of shit alone. Not when you don’t have to.”

Becca considered this and then shook her head. “Don’t distract me from my question. You know who was in the back there, right? He stood up to help me before your dramatic entrance.”

“Alright, who was it?”

“Captain America.”

Besides her Bucky's internal freak out manifested in a slight stutter step.

“Okay, so?” He finally said.

Becca rolled her eyes.

“Sooo how about the fact that you have, like, a military strategist hard-on for him and he’s included in almost every one of your trivia sets?”

There was silence for a few moments as Bucky considered this description of himself.

“I guess I should probably stop including him in the trivia if he’s gonna keep coming."

“Nah, I think you should up the ante, he’s even hotter in person. Are you gonna talk to him if he comes again?”

“No. The guy must be looking for some down time if he’s coming to my dumb trivia night. Plus... I honestly don’t want to run the risk of having a complete fan girl meltdown.”

Becca laughed at that mental image. Maybe pre-military Bucky would have had a fan girl moment, but not the Bucky of today. The Bucky of today was cool, unflappable, and the strongest son of a bitch she knew. She still didn’t have the whole story of what had happened during his time as a POW, but the number of nights he’d woken up screaming that first year back had told her enough.

It had been a hard first year back, but Bucky had pulled himself through. He’d found a counselor, enrolled and been selected for one of Stark’s new prosthetic trials, and he’d gotten his bachelor’s in an accelerated course before moving on to his master’s and, finally, Ph.D.

Becca couldn’t be prouder of him. He deserved whatever he wanted and if what he wanted was Captain America’s fine patriotic ass then god damnit, Rebecca Barnes was going to get it for him.

“Okay, first of all it’s not dumb trivia, people love your trivia—look how many people come out to that shitty bar on a Wednesday now! Second, I doubt you’d have a meltdown, you deal with pompous academics all day long, you're the most levelheaded guy I know. Thirdly, any guy, including Captain Fucking America, would be lucky to talk to you and doubly lucky to have a shot at boning you. Look at those fucking cheekbones. Look at that ass!”

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh. He didn’t know where he’d be without Becca, but he strongly suspected in a dumpster.

When their parents had died Bucky had been neck deep in the Middle East on a mission he tried not to remember. Becca had been 18 and there was no way in hell Bucky was going to let her make a go of it on her own while he finished out his tour.

He’d been trying to figure out how to get home when a routine op had gone sidewise leaving him short one arm and chained to a fucking chair in a cave. When he’d finally been rescued two weeks later Bucky had left the desert with a gaping hole in his memory, a missing appendage, and a new set of abilities that he was still adjusting to eight years later.

“Come on Buck, you have to talk to him next time. If only to tell him you think he’s the greatest thing since Napoleon.”

“Actually, when it comes to Napoleon-“

“Oh my god Bucky, that is not the point. He probably knew Eisenhower! You can get two of your favs in one go!”

Becca knew him way too well.

“No, no, you get back temptress!” Bucky made the sign of the cross at her as he jogged up the front steps of their apartment building. He studiously avoided her gaze as he dug around in his pockets for his keys. “I’m not gonna bother the guy for old war stories, god knows I’ve had first hand experience with how annoying it is to be asked about that shit. If he wants to play trivia in peace that’s the least I can do for him.”

He could feel Becca’s eye roll. “Bucky, I’m not saying interview the guy for your next loser paper. I’m saying ask him out, make some small talk, and then fuck his brains out—Jesus!

Bucky did a mock double take, his key stuck in the lock has he clasped his hand to his breast.

“What on earth happened to my sweet and innocent baby sister?”

“She grew up and found out how awesome sex is,” Becca retorted, flicking her hair back.

Bucky decided to ignore that and pushed the door open to the lobby.

“Look, Becca it doesn’t matter, he’s straight, remember?”

Becca hummed thoughtfully, following him and closing the lobby door behind her.

“I don’t know Buck, I think he was checking you out.”

Bucky was done with the conversation. What was the point? Captain America was a paragon of straightness and, even if he wasn’t, Bucky was just, well, Bucky.

“I doubt he even comes again and I’m done talking about it. I have way too much shit to do and I refuse to waste my time on a weird academic crush that I may or may not have.”

To be safe though he took out the Steve Rogers question from next week’s trivia set.

***

Like any great strategist, Steve re-examined his teams’ losses from all angles. He weighed their strengths and weakness, replayed events in painstaking detail, and planned alternative options for future scenarios. Planning his total domination of next week's trivia was no different.

With his picture perfect memory he spent all day Thursday not training, or running, or reading mission reports, but recreating last night’s trivia sheet.

He dug into each topic, each question, mapping out connections and overlapping interests. He knew if he could boil down the Professor’s interest areas he could focus his energy on those specific topics and ensure victory for his team.

Of course, this also meant doing research on the Professor himself. Purely from a strategic standpoint, not because Steve kept seeing that jawline and those cool gray eyes every time he closed his own.

He didn’t have much to go on at first with the moniker "the Professor" but, in a stroke of luck, Clint actually remembered the guy’s name. This was surprising considering Clint couldn’t even remember the name of his bar manager or how much he paid the trivia host.

Steve had been a little skeptical when he'd typed "Bucky Barnes" into Google and been pleasantly surprised when a faculty profile page popped up for one James Buchanan Barnes in the history department of Columbia University. The page didn’t have a picture, which didn’t disappoint Steve _at all_. Really.

It was _fine_.

What the page did have was a huge list of articles and published works by Assistant Professor Barnes. If this really was the same guy as hot trivia host then he wasn’t just hot, he was also insanely smart.

Steve felt a particular jolt when he found a few articles with his own name in the title. Before he could help himself he was Googling for those as well, only to come up against a paywall since all three of them were only available in academic journals.

It probably wasn’t healthy to try and read an academic article that the trivia host who you _maybe_ had an interest in wrote about you. Steve settled for reading the abstracts instead.

The next item on the Google search results was an Instagram account for an @Buckaroo. Of course, he couldn’t say for certain it was owned by his Bucky Barnes or even associated with the professor at Columbia he’d stalked, but his gut told him it was. The account itself was registered to a Bucky Barnes and really, how many Bucky Barnes’ could there be in New York City? The profile picture showed the Brooklyn Bridge. The account itself was private.

Steve wasn’t much for social media, but of all of the mediums Instagram seemed the most like something he’d enjoy. He’d toyed with the idea of getting one before, but knowing that a deeper look into his new trivia host lay a few clicks away made it all the more attractive.

He was halfway through signing up for an account when a small cough came from behind him.

Even with his super serum reflexes Steve still found himself falling out of his chair sideways and onto the floor. When he looked up it was to see Natasha's grinning face.

“What are you doing Steve?” She waved a hand at the white board he’d dragged into the empty common room and the laptop sitting on the table. Steve was suddenly very aware that all of his whiteboard scribbles looked a bit like something a serial killer would write.

He panicked. “Research?”

“Hmmm.” She scanned the evidence before her.

“Is this about Clint’s smart friend who does trivia at his bar?”

“You knew he owned a bar?”

She shrugged, “I know about the bar, the bookstore, the apartment building, and the animal shelter.”

As she counted them off on her fingers Steve wondered why he bothered trying to hide anything.

“Now, stop trying to distract me Rogers. Answer the question.”

“I, uh, I really liked bar trivia. And we lost last night so I thought I’d get us all ready for the next game," he explained. It was a pretty lame excuse even if it was partially true.

“You got third place.”

“Yes, but that’s not winning…”

Natasha lifted her eyes skyward and let out a deep sigh.

“So you’re stalking the host?”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it _stalking_. I’m doing research; you have to know what you’re up against if you want to win. The lay of the land and all that.”

“Steve, be honest, do you treat all of your romantic prospects like you’re going to have to fight them in one-to-one combat at some point?”

“Uhhhh.” Steve hadn’t ever had that many real romantic prospects. He had only been interested in Peggy really and he’d been so much younger then that he’d kind of fumbled his way through. This guy, this crush (if it was a crush, which Steve hadn’t decided it was yet) was the first person who had sparked his interest since.

“Steve are you signing up for an Instagram account to stalk this poor man?”

They both already knew the answer. She sighed again.

“His account is private, which means he doesn’t want random people following him and since you didn’t even talk to him yesterday he will probably think that any request from a “Steve Rogers” is either a bot account, or a weirdo, both of which he will say no to.”

Steve felt his bubble burst. Nat was right, wasn’t that the very reason he wasn’t on social media? To maintain privacy? And god only knew how many fake Steve Rogers accounts were probably out there.

He should nip this little obsession in the bud right now. Close his laptop, erase his whiteboard, and focus on something else.

“There’s a much less obvious way to stalk him Steve. Come over here.”

On the other hand, he really did want to learn more about Bucky. For research.

Purely research.

He sprang up onto his feet and hovered over Nat's shoulder as she messed around on his laptop.

“What are you doing?”

“He has a sister, right? So, we find her account and if it’s public then you can look at her pictures to see if he’s tagged in any.”

It took all of two seconds to find an account for a Becca Barnes listed among Bucky's followers.

It was public.

Steve practically pushed Nat out of the way so he could scroll through Becca's pictures. There were a lot of landscape shots and food shots, but then Steve saw it. A picture of Bucky! And, oh god, he was shirtless in it…

Steve felt his brain go a little numb.

The photo was of Becca and Bucky on a beach. It had clearly been a selfie and Becca’s smiling face was in one corner. In the background was Bucky flashing the peace sign with his metal hand and holding a beer with his other. Sunglasses covered his eyes but his grin was sinful as he lounged back on a towel in swim trunks. The caption read, “Finally got the nerd to go to the beach with me!”

Steve scrolled down and was thrilled to see that besides landscapes and food Becca had a fair amount of photos of her brother.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Nat said before disappearing.

Steve barely heard her, he was way too busy being a creep.

By the time trivia night rolled back around Steve felt more than prepared for a victory. After all, he'd researched his target with an intensity unmatched since his attempts to stamp out Hydra's bases in WWII. He was even considering striking up a conversation with Bucky afterwards. Just something casual… it was always nice to make new friends, right?

So when the Avengers alert lit up his phone he felt his heart plummet.

The next three weeks were filled with mission logistics, fighting a monocle-wearing mad scientist, cleaning it all up, and then drowning under a mountain of paperwork.

“Does Steve look kinda, I don’t know, down to you?” Clint asked Nat around week two of the mission.

“Do you think it’s because he got that new Instagram account but he can’t post anything yet cause of how classified all of this shit is? Cause that would make me pretty pissed.”

Nat made a noncommittal noise in response.

When the team finally had another Wednesday night free, Steve wasn’t all that surprised to hear Nat casually suggest that they try trivia again.

Nat never forgot anything.


	2. Tootsie Rolls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I realize it's March right now, but I'm a BIG fan of Halloween and couldn't help but include it in this story. As always, this is unbeta'd so shoot me a note if you see any mistakes.
> 
> I also want to thank everyone who has left a comment, kudos, or bookmark. I hope you continue to enjoy it! I'm going to try and have the next chapter up within another week so stay tuned for more. And if you're wondering when Cthulhu comes into play, he'll be joining us in the next part. Enjoy!

Bucky ended up being right; Steve and his teammates weren’t at trivia the following week.

Or the next week.

Or the week after that.

He finally decided to write the entire thing off as a once in a lifetime deal. He’d had his brush with the rich and famous and that was the end of it. At least now he could start putting Captain America questions back in his trivia sets. And just in time for his extra special Halloween edition!

To go with the theme the image round featured famous costumes and included a close-up shot of the iconic wing on the side of Captain America’s helmet. Bucky was gleefully looking forward to how many people he stumped with that one.

As was traditional, Bucky and Becca had done a joint costume for the holiday: Bucky as Captain Hook and Becca as Peter Pan.

Bucky had curled his long hair into waves and grown out a little goatee and pencil mustache just for the occasion. And, with some help from a very enthusiastic, cos-playing Stark technician, he’d even figured out how to remove the left hand of his cyborg arm and replace it with a hook.

The hook was plastic, because he really didn’t want to accidentally stab anyone.

He’d completed the outfit with a long red coat, huge black hat with feather, white button-down shirt, black pants, and some kickass boots.

Bucky hadn’t always been as into Halloween as he was now. But Becca loved it and after he’d been discharged she’d badgered and bullied him until he’d agreed to do a joint costume.

They had ended up going as Woody and Jessie from _Toy Story 2_. Up until that point Bucky had been so self conscious about his injury that he’d barely left the house. But that night, with Becca’s enthusiastic support, Bucky had left his terrible plastic prosthetic at home and gone out as arm less Woody all night long. It had been a total blast and a new tradition had been born.

“Yar, me hardies who be ready for our Halloween trivia extravaganza?” He called out to the crowd to hoots and hollers of appreciation.

It was, naturally, at this moment that the Avengers walked through the door: Steve, Clint, Falcon, and the Black Widow.

None of them were in costume.

All of them turned to stare at him.

Bucky cleared his throat a little self consciously.

“Five minutes everyone, get your teams ready to go and if you don’t already have a sheet come grab one.” Then he turned his back to where the Avengers still stood and focused on getting his answer sheet ready.

“So, you still gonna do the trivia in character?” Becca asked quietly, a smile on her lips. Bucky resisted the urge to shake his hook at her.

“Oh, shut-up. You’re just smug because you didn’t have to grow a mustache for your character.” Bucky grumped and then did shake his hook at her.

“True. Plus can you believe I actually squeezed into this thing?” Becca’s costume was essentially green tights and a long green tunic. Both were a size too small, but they did put her curves on display.

Bucky’s frown deepened.

“Come on Bucky, the mustache makes you look roguish. We both look fucking hot.”

There was a cough and the siblings turned to see Falcon patiently waiting by the stage. Bucky hadn’t even heard him approach, which spoke volumes to Becca’s ability to distract him.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt, but my team still needs a trivia sheet.” He smiled at Bucky but his attention was completely focused on Becca.

Bucky thought about shaking his hook at him too.

“Oh, of course.” Becca purred, before turning to the stool where the trivia sheets sat and bending over much further than was strictly necessary.

“Jesus Peter, do we need to get a taller stool?” Bucky growled, his eyes narrowed on Falcon’s very dazed face. The other man’s gaze quickly snapped upward.

“I don’t know _what_ you’re talking about Hook.” She replied, completely unperturbed. She gave Falcon a huge smile and handed him a sheet.

Bucky scowled and began to twist his mustache, his modified hook arm held up a bit menacingly.

“Good luck,” Becca said with a wink as Falcon quickly made his way back to his table.

“Becca, I swear to god, if you get laid as Peter Fucking Pan while I’m stuck in this pencil mustache I will change the locks and dump your things on the curb.” Bucky threatened after Falcon was safely out of earshot.

“If I am so lucky as to get that fine piece of man I’ll be bringing him home to our place, so you can just take that pencil mustache of yours somewhere else.”

“Why is god punishing me?” Bucky asked the universe at large.

A muffled laugh pulled his attention away from Becca and to the back table. Mr. Super Serum Ears himself had clearly heard the entire exchange and was valiantly trying to contain his laughter.

Bucky had made Steve Rogers laugh.

He ignored the little bubbles of happiness bouncing around inside of him and shook his head to try and clear his Steve-addled brain. Obviously, he would have to be more careful about what he said with Steve around.

“Better get the show on the road bro,” Becca said, bringing his attention back to the trivia game.

Bucky cleared his throat and grabbed the mic. “Alright everyone, I don’t see any newbies tonight but just in case same rules as always, no harassment, no cheating on your phone, if you don’t know the answer write down a funny one and if it makes me laugh I’ll give you a point. Break any rules and I’ll make you walk the plank! First three teams get a prize. Any questions?”

When no one raised their hands Bucky pressed on.

“Good, on to the first category: Halloween Candy. Question one: What was the first wrapped penny candy in America? I’ll throw in an extra point if you can tell me what year it was introduced.”

As the game progressed Bucky became increasingly aware that someone was trying to drill a hole through his skull with their eyes. When he finally glanced up he was a little surprised to find it was Black Widow.

Bucky had seen some shit in his life, but staring into Black Widow’s unblinking gaze was one of the most unnerving experiences he’d ever had. He resolved to ignore her, but he couldn’t shake the creeping feeling of her eyes on him.

When the final question had been asked and it was time to turn in answer sheets Bucky was a little anxious to see Black Widow stand up with her team’s sheet. Unable to look away, he watched as she grabbed the sheet in her well-manicured hand, shook her hair out, and began the short walk across the bar to the stage.

She walked across the stained and sticky floor as if it was a Paris runway. Confidence rolled off of her as she prowled towards him, heads whipping around to follow her progress.

Bucky was _not_ into women sexually, but even he was a bit mesmerized by the performance.

“Here you go,” she said, her voice a little breathy.  

Behind him Bucky heard Becca gulp. Around him his patrons quieted, in the back he heard the bartender stop polishing the bar.

He looked down at her from the stage, past the preening and innuendo, and saw (with, honestly, a bit of relief) that there wasn’t the slightest bit of interest in those half-lidded eyes.

Black Widow was playing a game and Bucky was not going to be the fool who fell for whatever the hell this was.

He very deliberately did not look at her as he reached out and pinched the offered answer sheet between two fingers.

“Thanks.” He grunted, before he turned back to the pile of papers.

It was a clear dismissal.

She stayed put, one hip cocked out to the side while she twirled a piece of her hair.

She wasn’t going to leave it was she?

Bucky sighed and hopped off of his stool. He crouched down so that they were just a hair’s breadth apart. Her red locks fell down in waves that perfectly framed her face, her green eyes narrowed a tiny bit, and her lips parted. As he watched, she licked them.

There were a few sighs in the crowd.

This really was too much.

“If you’re hoping you can get an extra point for your good genetics you’re shit outta luck. I don’t swing that way sugar and even if I did I don’t give extra points unless you actually earn them. So, I suggest you go back to your table and wait until Pan and I count up all the scores.” He kept his voice low because, yeah, he was pissed, but he wasn’t a total asshole out to embarrass anyone.

It was like a light switch had been flicked off. The sultry smile dropped, her eyes turned from soft to calculating in an instant. They stared at each other for a few moments until her lips quirked just a touch.

“You’re not dumb and you’re not a pushover. I’m going to keep you under consideration Barnes.” Then she turned and made her way back across the room.

Confused, Bucky looked up at the rest of her teammates. Clint wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention, Falcon was trying not to laugh, and Steve, well, Steve was turning a very becoming shade of pink.

What the fuck had that been about?

_Ignore it Barnes._

He turned back to the papers and began to tally up scores, focusing his attention on the sheets in hand and consciously tuning out the chatter at the back table.

When it came to Black Widow, he was probably better off not knowing.

***

“Why did you do that?!” Steve hissed, his serum enhanced hearing ensuring that he’d heard the entire exchange. His heart was beating so hard he thought it would burst out of his chest, his thoughts were a whirl of embarrassment and elation. Bucky “didn’t swing that way.”

_Bucky liked men._

Or at least, he didn’t like women, which was something.

Natasha shrugged, completely unruffled by the rejection.

“You stalk him so much I had to see if he checked out.”

She paused to take a sip of her drink, “Now we know he’s not into women, he’s not an idiot, and he doesn’t take shit. That coupled with the background checks and research I’ve compiled lead me to pronounce him an acceptable sex partner for Steve Rogers.”

Her lips spread into a Cheshire Cat grin as Steve turned into a literal tomato.

He unconsciously looked up at the trivia host, at Bucky, who was very focused on tallying up scores. As if sensing his gaze, Bucky looked up and for a moment they locked eyes. Panicked to be caught staring, Steve gave him a little nod before whipping his gaze away and resting his head on the table in defeat.

“What did I do to deserve this?” He moaned.

“I honestly don’t know but you’re damn lucky to have me Rogers and you know it.” Natasha said, completely unashamed, as always.

“Okay everyone, the points are in and we have our winners.” Bucky announced a few minutes later. Steve stopped his attempts to knock himself unconscious on the table and looked up.

He couldn’t get over how cute Bucky and his sister looked in their costumes. Bucky’s hair all curled and wavy was a goddamn masterpiece. And his mustache and goatee, _Jesus_ , he looked like he belonged on the cover of one of Pepper’s romance novels. What did they call them... rakes? Bucky definitely looked like a rake tonight.

Steve had completely forgotten that Halloween was this week. It hadn’t really been a thing when he’d been growing up and now that he was dethawed he spent a lot of his everyday life dressed up in costume.

But when he’d walked into the bar and seen Bucky and Becca dressed up as Captain Hook and Peter Pan, Steve had felt a weird sense of joy fill him. If there was anything he’d learned in his extensive online stalking of Bucky and, by association, Becca, it was that they were _fun_. They had fun together, they enjoyed each other’s company, and Steve would be lying if he said he wasn’t jealous of that.

Before Clint had dragged him to trivia Steve couldn’t remember the last time he’d done something purely for fun. Running and sparring didn’t count, they were meant to burn off steam, to stay fit and ready for work.

Maybe Tony had been on to something with those mandatory movie nights. Maybe Steve needed to do more social things with his friends outside of missions.

Something just for the fun of it.

“And in second place we have Just Here for the Beer.” Steve snapped back to attention. They still hadn’t gotten first place?

He saw both Sam and Nat start to stand up to collect their prize.

“No way, I don’t trust either of you to go up there again. I think we’ve harassed both hosts enough tonight.”

Steve gave them his best “America is Disappointed in You” face and stood up to collect the prize himself.

Steve didn’t hear Bucky announce the first place team he was so nervous about walking up. He managed to maintain his cool and not fall on his feet as he took the drink tokens from Becca. The cowardly part of him wanted to slink back over to his table, but he knew if he didn’t try to strike up some sort of conversation with Bucky tonight he never would.

So instead of returning to the other Avengers he ducked over to the side of the stage and loitered until Bucky had wrapped up the rest of his announcements.

Once Bucky signed off and turned off the mic Steve made his approach.

“Hey, uh, Professor is it?” Steve asked, as if he didn’t already know the man’s full name, age, and occupation.

Bucky looked up from where he was packing away the microphone system.

“Yeah, you can just call me Bucky though, Becca started that dumb Professor nickname.” Bucky smiled a bit as he watched his sister jump down from the stage to hand back the rest of the sheets.

“Oh, well, I’m Steve.” He waited for the inevitable gasp of recognition...

“Good to meet you Steve.” Bucky held out his non-hook hand and they shook like completely normal humans.

When Bucky didn’t say anything else Steve was left in the uncomfortable and entirely unfamiliar situation of trying to decide if Bucky recognized him. Was he just being polite? Did he not recognized Steve? I mean, they guy had written papers on Steve, he had to recognize him… right?

In a perverse way Steve had been kind of expecting the conversation to revolve around his being Captain America, but since it clearly wasn’t going to...

“Anyway, I wanted to apologize for my friend. Sometimes she’s well, she does...”

“Weird shit?” Bucky supplied.

“Uh yep, actually that sums it up.” Steve laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. All around them the other bar patrons were standing up, putting on coats and leaving the bar.

“It’s okay, I have wild card friends as well.” Bucky shrugged, the feather in his large Hook hat wobbling a bit at the motion.

“Wild card?”

“Oh yeah, everyone has one. You know, the friend who is just as likely to show up on time for a dinner date as they are to show up late, screaming obscenities at some stranger for double parking, and trailing behind a stray dog they found but have decided to keep.”

“You talking about Darcy big bro?” Becca interrupted, shooting a grin at both of them before moving along to collect pens and papers.

“The one and only.” Bucky laughed. “Darcy’s an old college friend, well she’d say I’m the old one but we met at school...” Bucky explained, all of a sudden aware that he was blathering like an idiot to Steve Rogers while dressed as a fucking pirate captain from a children’s book.

“Well, you seem too young to me to be a professor—not that professors are old or anything or...”

Bucky smiled before Steve could ramble his way off of a cliff _._

“Don’t worry about it, I take it as a compliment. I’m actually only an assistant professor right now, but I’m hoping to get tenure soon.”

“His students call him Professor McSteamy.” Becca called from somewhere across the room.

Bucky was very thankful that he had never blushed a day in his life and very certain that he was just going to murder Becca. It was for his own sanity.

“What do you teach?” Steve asked casually, as if he hadn’t read all of the abstracts for all of Bucky’s papers ever written.

“History, over at Columbia. My focus is 20th century but my research revolves a lot around warfare so I overlap with some Anthropology classes. You would think I’d have had my fill of war when I was on tour, but I’m kind of fascinated by the social construct of it all.” Bucky shrugged, trying to seem unruffled and cool about it and not like the total loser he actually was.

“You were in the military?” Steve already knew Bucky had been in the military. Nat had offered to show him the guy's records for god's sake. But this was how small talk worked, right?

“Yep, that’s how I ended up with this bad boy.” Bucky wave his left arm at Steve, completely unashamed of the metal. In the years since he’d lost his arm he’d gone from painfully self conscious to proud of it. He wanted people to see it, to understand the real price soldiers paid for what they did.

Plus, it looked fucking awesome.

“I couldn’t afford school so I joined up,” he continued, “Turns out tuition did cost an arm, but they haven’t come for the leg yet so I think I got off pretty easy.” He grinned to show that it was meant as a joke.

People didn’t always appreciate his morbid sense of humor.

Steve let out a snort of laughter.

Bucky’s inner fangirl squealed.

“Well, it also goes great with your costume so you have that going for you too.”

Bucky snorted, “I know, Becca and I try to stick with a theme of 'one armless character' every Halloween.”

“I like that. Oh by the way, uh, good work on that image round. I don’t think my table would have gotten the wing if I hadn’t been here. You probably stumped a lot of people on that one,” Steve complimented.

“Hey, Cap you ready to go?” Sam clapped a hand on Steve’s shoulder. Behind him the other Avengers loitered, doing piss poor jobs of pretending not to eavesdrop. All except for Natasha, who wasn’t even trying to pretend. She stood stock still and blatantly stared at Bucky. If she kept trying to intimidate him he’d almost be flattered.

Steve turned to see what Bucky was looking at and immediately turned a pale pink.

Interesting.

“Don’t worry about it Steve, like I said, I know all about having friends who are also terrible humans.” Bucky said again, talking loud enough for Natasha to hear him. She just winked and sauntered out the door. Clint trailed along behind her, shooting Bucky a two fingered salute before exiting.

“Some days I think that describes all of my friends,” Steve grumbled.

Bucky laughed, delighted to see a snarky side of Steve.

“Well, it was good to see you guys, hopefully we see you again sometime.”

“Yeah, it’s been fun, we’ll definitely try to be here next time, it’s just that…” Steve didn’t know how to end that sentence. Did he blow the sense of normalcy and address the fact that his job was running around in tights?

“Sometimes saving the world takes precedence over trivia, it’s understandable I suppose,” Bucky filled in for him dryly.

“Right,” Steve said with relief, “Well, see you.”

***

“Did you get his number?” Becca asked as the two of them walked to Bucky’s bike. He’d ridden his motorcycle to the bar this time. He hated riding the subway in costume. Whenever he was in costume he always ended up in a packed car and got the whole outfit dirty or ripped. After putting so much time into this one he decided driving in the cold fall air was preferable. He didn’t really get cold anymore anyway.

“Whose number?” He grunted as he handed Becca her helmet and traded out his feathered hat for his own.

“Oh my fucking _god_ Bucky don’t even pretend you don’t have the worst crush of your life on Captain America right now.”

“It’s Steve,” he corrected automatically.

“What?”

Bucky sighed, kicking himself for saying anything at all.

“He’s just Steve when he’s playing trivia.”

“Uh huh. And that’s the assessment a completely rational and non-crushing man has made on one of his many patrons?”

“Fine. No, I did not get his number. I don’t even know if he’s into guys _and_ I’m not gonna be that person who thinks a celeb is into them after one conversation.”

“Me thinks the lady doth protest too much. He is fucking into you Bucky! That whole thing with Black Widow? She’s checking you out. She probably has a dossier on you in her file of ‘people Steve Rogers wants to fuck.’”

“I’m not talking about this anymore.” Bucky said, swinging his leg over the bike and revving the engine.

“Now do you want a ride home or not?” He called over the roar.

Becca made a disgusted sound and then jumped on behind him.

“This isn’t over Bucky!” She called at him over the noise.

Bucky pretended not to hear her.

But later that night when he received a follow request from an @realsgr on Instagram he couldn’t help the small happy dance he did before he hit accept.


	3. Hel, Fenrir, and Jörmungandr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay on this update! This chapter really kicked my ass, characters were NOT doing what I wanted them to do so I had to rewrite a few scenes. Anyway, here it is so thanks for waiting and for all of the lovely comments, kudos, and bookmarks. I love getting them. As always, this is unbetaed so please let me know if you see any mistakes. Enjoy! <3

“Don’t like all of his photos at once.” Nat advised after Steve burst into the common room, phone held triumphantly aloft, and announced that Bucky had accepted his follow request.

“Yeah, try to have a little chill,” Clint called from where he sat upside down on the couch playing video games with Sam.

“Steve, that’s really great!” Sam smiled and paused Mario Kart to give Steve his full attention.

Sam was truly an angel.

“So are you finally gonna admit you have a monster crush on this guy?”

Scratch that, Sam was a fiend.

A fiend with a valid point.

Steve was totally, 100% crushing on Bucky. He knew it, they knew, but the idea of voicing it out loud felt weird.

Steve had always known that he liked both men and women. When he was young, before the serum, the war, and the ice, there had been a few fellas he’d been interested in. Of course, there had been nothing for it then, no course of action or way to truly pursue anything. It had been too dangerous, too risky, especially when he’d been barely scraping by on his own.

But now he was in the future, where he could like and love and be attracted to whoever he wanted... and he had no idea what to do about it.

Did he have to hold a press conference? Get a written permission slip from his fellow Avengers to bring a civilian into their world? Would Bucky even want to go out with _him_ an octogenarian, semi-closeted superhero who ran around throwing a shield at bad guys all day?

Going out on a date with him was kind of asking a lot.

Steve was rescued from these panicked thoughts by the ding of the elevator.

“Hey tenants, what’s going on?” Tony asked as he made a beeline straight to the fridge and began to rustle through the contents.

Most of the Avengers didn’t bother to store perishable food in their own apartments. It didn’t make sense when they could be called up at any minute and be gone for weeks on end. So Jarvis ordered and made sure the common area fridge stayed stocked with essentials and the team members filled in the rest as needed.

As the only team member who actually lived with someone else, a very capable someone else who managed and ensured that there was always food in their apartment, Tony really wasn’t supposed to be ransacking the common room fridge.

But that didn’t stop him from wandering up and eating other people’s food whenever he felt like it. Steve secretly suspected that Tony got lonely sometimes and, rather than admit it, used the fridge as an excuse to socialize.

“Nothing much, just talking about Steve’s new cru-”

“INSTAGRAM ACCOUNT!” Steve shouted, interrupting Clint and sending the man a ferocious scowl.

He didn’t want Tony to know about this yet. Not because he thought Tony would care that Steve liked women _and_ men.

It didn’t matter _who_ Steve liked, Tony would find some way to torment him about it. Steve was an only child, but he imagined Tony was a bit like having an obnoxious older (if actually younger) brother.

“Good for you Capsicle, it’s high time you got with this century. What’s your username, Mr. Freeze? Cool as Ice? Star-Spangled Man with the Plan?” Tony continued to rattle off terrible names for another few minutes before finally pulling his head out of the fridge. He had a lime in one hand and a bottle of jam in the other. Steve didn’t want to know what he intended to do with them.

“What have you guys been up to besides getting the old man onto social media. Big kudos on that by the way, I thought he’d never adapt.” Tony had his head in a cabinet now and was scrounging for what Steve hoped was bread. That would at least explain why he got out the jam.

“Not a lot. Same old this and that. Saving the world, trying to make a BUCK. Nothing really too exciting, no BARNES burning or anything.” Clint said, a perfectly evil smile lighting up his face as he and Sam started to play Mario Kart again. Steve could feel sweat gathering at the base of his neck, his cheeks began to heat up in embarrassment.

“What, you saying I don’t pay you enough Barton? Last time I checked your portfolio’s doing better than mine.”

“Should you be looking at Clint’s portfolio Tony?” Steve asked, desperate to distract his terrible teammates.

“I don’t think you’re the person to be criticizing Tony's complete disregard for personal boundaries Steve,” Nat said. She wasn’t smiling but there was a devious glint in her eye as she scrolled through her phone.

“Steve’s right though Tony,” said Sam. “You really shouldn’t be looking at other people's financial records. Or their photos, their _sister’s_ photos, or trying to buy subscriptions to academic journals to read their work.”

Sam was a monster.

How were these people Steve’s _friends?_

Brilliant tactician that he was, Steve knew when to cut his losses and retreat. He stuffed his phone in his pocket and practically ran for the elevator before someone completely spilled the beans.

“I get the feeling we aren’t talking about Barton’s finances anymore.” Tony looked from Avenger to Avenger and then at Steve’s quickly retreating back.

“What’s going on?”

“Oh, nothing Cap can’t figure out,” said Nat with a smile.

***

Bucky was having a no good, terrible, horrible, very bad Thursday.

It started when his alarm clock didn’t go off leaving him twenty minutes behind schedule. He barely managed to make it to his morning lecture only to have the fire alarm go off ten minutes into the class. He ended up sending his students home, steaming over the knowledge that they were now behind and that midterms were less than two weeks away.

During his office hours a student came in furious about a bad grade they’d received. Bucky didn’t even recognize the guy he attended lectures so infrequently, and it wasn’t until Bucky’s left arm started to whir quietly in frustration that the guy stopped shouting long enough for Bucky to get a word in edgewise. The guy left still angry, but very much aware that if he didn’t start showing up for class he could expect more of the same grade-wise.

The icing on the cake was when Bucky left his office, got halfway home, and realized that he’d left a pile of papers he needed to grade back on campus. He wanted to scream.

Then his phone dinged.

He dug it out and looked at his notifications.

_@realsgr has liked your photo._

Oh sweet baby Jesus, Steve Rogers had **_liked his photo!_ **

The photo in question was one he had posted earlier that day, an image of his glasses resting on a pile of exams with four or five empty coffee containers in the background. The caption read: **My body is 60% coffee at this point. #professorlife #willgradeforcaffeine  
**

And just like that the stresses and frustrations of the day disappeared. Was he still going to be up late grading? Yes.

But none of it mattered because Steven Grant Rogers liked his dumb photo. Bucky turned back toward campus with a spring in his step.

***

Steve spent the next few days putting his new resolution to socialize more into action. He still ran in the mornings and trained, but instead of immersing himself in mission and intelligence reports he made more of an effort to see the team. When he did work on mission reports he did so in the common room so he could chat with people as they wandered through.

It made him feel good.

Then Saturday rolled around and another new picture was posted on Bucky’s Instagram account.

Steve’s phone had chimed at the ungodly hour of 3 am. Bleary-eyed he scooped it up from the bedside table and peered at the screen. His heart leapt at the notification. He swiped the screen open and selected the Instagram app.

There at the top of his sparse news feed was a new photo of Bucky.

He was all dressed up in his Captain Hook costume, his right arm slung around a grinning Becca. Steve was struck again by how good Bucky looked with his hair curled. On Bucky’s left was a man Steve didn’t recognize from the rest of Bucky’s photos. He wasn’t as tall as Bucky but he was very muscular. He was also dressed in a ridiculous bowler hat and had the largest mustache Steve had ever seen… and he was kissing Bucky.

Okay, so the kiss was on Bucky's cheek, but the image still made Steve’s heart lurch.

The caption read: **Always great to go out with these two clowns, even if the good Lieutenant didn’t actually wear a costume! Next time shave the stache @DumDumD and you might actually get a kiss back.  
**

Steve immediately clicked on the account Bucky had tagged and found it was private as well.

“Fuck.” Steve cursed. Why did all of the people he actually wanted to stalk have the sense to keep their accounts private?

He couldn’t tell where the three of them were, the background had bright lights and Becca was holding a drink so he assumed they were out at a party. Bucky didn’t seem like the kind of person who would let just anyone grab him like that—could that be his boyfriend? The caption didn’t read like something you’d say to a boyfriend...

He was being such an idiot.

Steve had never been good at skirting around an issue and this was no exception. His next step was clear: next week at trivia he was going to ask Bucky out.

***

By the time trivia rolled around again Steve was a bundle of nerves. He’d spent the whole week running scenarios in his head, planning for every possible outcome. Right now the plan was simple: play a nice and normal game of trivia, strike up a conversation with Bucky afterwards, ask the man out for coffee.

Steve knew the plan was so easy a middle schooler could execute it but it had still taken him three days to finalize the details. A key component of this plan was the fact that both Nat and Clint were on some sort of super secret spy mission. Normally Steve would want to know why he wasn't briefed on something like this, at the moment though he couldn’t care less. He was just relieved that it was only him and Sam attending trivia. Nice, normal, socially affable Sam.

Steve almost felt relaxed as he and Sam walked out of the subway stop and toward Bullseye.

The feeling quickly disappeared when the teammate he least expected to see dropped from the sky with a rumble of thunder.

“The lady Pepper said you would be here playing something called trivia!” Thor boomed.

Steve hadn’t had a lot of opportunities to spend time with Thor off mission but, in general, he liked the man.

He did. He promised.

Right at this moment though he kind of wished Thor wasn’t here. Steve and his friends had already caused enough issues during Bucky’s trivia and Thor was... unfamiliar with how most Earth-things worked. Steve could see his plan of a nice and normal trivia game evaporating before his eyes as, with a shake, Thor changed his hammer into an umbrella.

At least the god was wearing jeans and a hoodie instead of his usual armor and cape.

“Shall we go inside? Or is this a game that is played outside?” Thor asked, a big smile stretched across his handsome face.

Steve knew he was being unreasonable and unfair. But all he wanted was a simple night of trivia and a chance to ask Bucky out. And maybe the opportunity to casually ask who that mustachioed man had been in Bucky’s latest Instagram post…

“No, we play inside,” Sam laughed, “Come on we were about to go in and grab a table. I’ll explain the logistics while we look for one.”

Dear, sweet, emotionally intelligent Sam waved Thor through the door, leaving Steve to trail along behind and make the necessary emotional adjustments to the unexpected arrival. He made himself think about his resolution, this was the perfect chance to get to know Thor better.

It wasn’t an inconvenience, it was a tactical consideration. He could enjoy time with Thor and still ask Bucky out. He was a master strategist, this should be a piece of cake… so why didn’t it feel like it?

“So, don’t shout out the answers if you know them and make sure you keep your voice down while we discuss things.” Steve could hear Sam explain as he followed the pair to their normal table in back.

“And what gives this Professor the right to demand we prove ourselves by solving these riddles? Is he a wizard? I didn’t know that Midgard had wizards though they are common enough in Asgard and they do ask many riddles.”

Steve left Sam to tackle that one and went to the bar to grab the first round of drinks.

When he came back, three beers balanced precariously in his hands, Thor had settled in nicely. Around them the other patrons were shuffling in and up front Becca was setting up the speaker system. Steve craned his neck around the bar, Bucky was nowhere in sight.

“Is that our host?” Thor asked, nodding his head toward Becca. His voice was quiet and Steve was relieved that the god was taking Sam’s instructions to heart.

“Nah, that’s the co-host. You’ll know when the host gets here because Steve will get this really dopey look at his face.” Sam’s kind smile turned devious.

“Oh ho, Steven are you pursuing a young maiden then?” Thor waggled his eyebrows.

“Um,” Steve cleared his throat, he supposed he would have to talk about this eventually so he might as well start with his teammates. “Actually the host is a man. His name is Bucky.” Steve’s voice was calm, but his chin was jutting out in his classic, “I can do this all day” fight-me pose.

“Steven that is truly wonderful!” Thor thundered, all attempts to keep his voice down forgotten. “How can Samuel and I help in your quest?”

“Oh,” Steve had not been prepared for that reaction. “Well, I’ll let you guys know I guess. I want to keep this quiet for now though so don’t, uh, mention it to anyone.”

“Ah, yes, it is better to learn more about a potential partner before declaring one’s interest. It can save one a great deal of embarrassment. Do not worry! I will keep your true feelings a secret. In Asgard I am known for the many confidences I keep. Why, when Loki broke father’s favorite eye patch I didn’t say nary a word about it!” Thor beamed and took a large gulp of his beer.

“Aren’t you talking about it now though?” Sam pointed out.

“Ah, yes, well as Loki is in prison for far worse crimes at the moment I think it okay if I mention his previous, childish misdeeds. I still have yet to say anything to anyone about Loki’s true feelings for Sif, now have I?” He smiled again and Steve didn’t have the heart to point out the problem with Thor’s most recent example of his secret-keeping abilities.

He resolved to ask Bucky out as soon as he could—it was only a matter of time before Thor inadvertently blabbed.

As if on cue Bucky burst into the bar. He looked a bit frazzled, with strands of hair falling out of his bun and his coat only halfway zipped.

“That’s the look I was talking about…” Sam mock-whispered to Thor.

Steve ignored them.

Bucky strode to the stage where he dumped his backpack and took out a stack of papers. He handed them to Becca, who began to pass them out. Steve watched, mesmerized, as Bucky took down his bedraggled bun and started combing his hair back into place. He barely noticed when Becca stopped at the table and handed a sheet to Sam.

“I see what you mean Samuel,” Thor said once Becca had continued on her way, “Steven is quite taken with him.”

Steve turned and glared as both Thor and Sam laughed at him.

Despite having less pop culture knowledge than Steve, Thor ended up being a solid addition to the team. Mostly because, in a stroke of luck, Bucky had included a category on Norse mythology. Steve was willing to bet that only their team had known the answer to question nine:

_In Norse mythology, the god Loki has a number of children, three of which are quite monstrous and play a significant role in the Norse apocalypse, Ragnarok. Name these three children._

Thor had laughed when he read the question. “Erik Selvig showed me some of your world’s Asgardian myths and I find them quite amusing.” He was still chuckling as he wrote down the answers.

Confident that they had finally gotten first, Steve let himself zone out and admire Bucky's hair as the other man announced the winners. He was startled back to himself when Bucky called their team name for second place. Sam quickly jumped up to collect their prize.

“And in first place is Strangest Thing for the third week running. Good job Strangest Thing,” Bucky announced.

Steve glared at the tall, dark haired man who walked up to collect his prize. He looked a bit smug as he collected the Bullseye gift card for his team.

He waited until the man was done talking to Bucky before he stood. With Sam settling the bill and Thor in the bathroom this was possibly Steve's only opportunity to talk to Bucky one on one.

“Good questions tonight.” Steve said as he approached the stage. Bucky was wrapping up cords. Behind him, Becca was packing up the pens and extra sheets into Bucky’s battered backpack.

“Thanks. I think your team might have had an unfair advantage on that Norse mythology round though. If I’d known Thor would be dropping by I would have changed it to Greek mythology instead,” Bucky said with a smile.

“Well, it still didn’t help us win in the end. Even that question about my shield didn’t help.” Steve shrugged and tried to appear nonchalant about the fact that he’d lost to a man with a goatee.

“Yeah, Strangest Thing is a hard team to beat. I think you guys will get there though. They’re good, but you’ve been right on their tail the last few weeks.”

“Well, I’m not going to stop playing until we win,” Steve declared a little petulantly.

“In that case I better make sure the questions are extra hard.” Bucky’s tone was casual, but Steve’s heart leapt a bit at the insinuation.

“Hey, I was actually wondering…” Steve started to ask, all of his practiced speeches completely forgotten, “Would you want to—”

“You ready to go?” Sam suddenly appeared besides him.

Steve resisted the urge to kick Sam. He was very much _not_ ready to go but he didn’t know how to say that without making things awkward.

He sighed.

“Sure.” Steve and Becca answered in unison. There was a silence during which Bucky turned slowly away from Steve and focused all of his attention on Sam.

“Care to explain Becca?” Bucky asked, his eyes fixed on Sam who was shifting uncomfortably under the steely stare.

“I don’t need to explain anything but since I know you are not gonna let this go, I am going out with Sam for a drink. I’m sure you can find your own way home safely.” She hopped down from the stage and shrugged on her coat.

“When did this happen?” Bucky asked, his glare now turned on Becca. She seemed less than impressed.

“It happened when Sam asked me out while he was collecting his drink tokens. When normal people are interested in someone and want to get to know them better they ask them out. What they don’t do is write trivia and then include a sp-”

“That’s enough outta you, you monster!” Bucky cut her off, his voice a bit panicked.

Becca cackled and Steve knew he was missing out on some sort of joke.

“We are not related,” Bucky declared in a huff.

“Come on Sam, let’s go before he unflusters himself.” Becca wrapped her arm in Sam’s and the two of them headed toward the door.

“Bye Steve, have a good night!” Sam called, waggling his eyebrows.

“You better have her home at a reasonable hour! I may be a mild mannered professor now but I haven’t always been so you take good care of her!” Bucky yelled at them. Becca shot him the finger and continued to ignore him.

Bucky huffed again as the door shut behind them.

“Sam’s a real nice guy Bucky, I don’t think you need to worry about Becca.”

“Oh, I know.” Bucky agreed quickly, “He’s probably the best guy she’s ever gone out with. But I missed a lot of her angsty teenage years while I was on tour and I didn’t get as much of a chance to be a protective big brother then…” He shrugged, “So I make up for it now.”

Steve laughed and then cleared his throat a bit nervously, he still had another chance to complete his mission. “So, anyway, I was wondering if you’d want to go—”

“Steven! It seems Samuel has asked that lovely maiden out for a beverage! Why don’t we go get a drink ourselves? And Bucky, you must join us, I insist. The night is young and full of possibilities, eh, Steven?” Thor winked at Steve and slung an arm around both of them.

And here Steve had thought Nat was his most embarrassing teammate.

“Sure, I don’t teach an early class tomorrow so I’m game.” Bucky agreed with a shrug. “Let me pack up the rest of my stuff.”

It wasn’t a date, but Steve would take it.

***

An American icon, a Norse god, and a one-armed vet walk into a bar.

Bucky was sure that this was the set up for some sort of big joke the universe was playing on him. How else had he ended up spending a night on the town with the God of Thunder himself and Captain Fucking America? There had to be a punchline on the horizon. Awesome stuff like this did not happen to him.

The three of them had trudged out into the chilly November air and, upon the realization that neither Thor nor Steve really knew a good place to go, Bucky had suggested a nearby bar called The Library.

He figured if this ended up being awkward as hell, which it probably would be, at least it could be awkward at one of his favorite bars.

The Library was smaller than Bullseye, but it was better lit and cleaner with the added bonus of a roaring fireplace in one of the corners. It always reminded Bucky a bit of a medieval tavern.

All of the tables were taken so the three of them ended up in a booth. Somehow Thor wound up with one side to himself, leaving Bucky and Steve smashed together on the other.

“So Bucky, Steven and Samuel tell me you are a scholar?” Thor asked once the three of them were settled in with their drinks.

Bucky was not a small man, but next to Steve he felt tiny. The guy was even bigger when you were sitting right next to him. He also gave off an ungodly amount of body heat. That was why Bucky felt hot all of sudden… right? Not Steve’s _hawt_ body, but his _hot_ body.

_Oh my god keep it together Barnes._

“Yeah, I teach history at one of the universities, mostly 20th century. It’s really not all that interesting.” Not when compared to what the two men (god and super soldier?) did everyday.

“Bucky teaches at Columbia University, which is a very prestigious school.” Steve declared, sounding almost...proud? No, that couldn’t be right.

“History is very important. Without knowing our past how can we ever hope to chart our future? To learn from our mistakes? Scholars such as yourself are much revered on Asgard.” Thor’s voice was very serious and Bucky found himself nodding along in agreement.

“Oh, well, uh, thank you.” He shifted a bit under the concentrated stares of both Avengers.

“So, what do you two do when you’re not out playing trivia or avenging?” He asked, a bit desperate to turn the conversation away from himself.

“Well, I help father run the kingdom. You know, arbitrate the occasional argument, slay the occasional troll or giant who’s encroached upon Asgard. When I’m here on Midgard one of my favorite things to do is try out new food. I have found many wonderful new dishes here and I’ve started to replicate them at home in Asgard! Though, I admit, I am still but a novice.”

“Thor, I didn’t know you cooked!” Steve exclaimed, just as surprised as Bucky. Who would have thought Thor knew what cooking was?

“Yes, well, it is good to try new things.” Thor waved away their surprise with all of the confidence of an Asgardian royal.

“What about you Steve?” Bucky asked.

Steve slowly turned a pale pink. He seemed very uncomfortable and Bucky wondered what he’d said wrong.

“Well, I like to run a lot. It helps keep me fit…” He trailed off.

“For a leader such as our Steven it can be hard to make time for leisurely activities. He truly is the hardest working member of our band of warriors. The lady Pepper did mention that you enjoy drawing when you have time, correct?” Thor smiled kindly at his teammate and Bucky had the distinct impression that Thor was trying to talk Steve up.

God only knew why, it wasn’t like Steve needed help impressing anyone.

The man was Captain Fucking America.

“Bucky, I see that your drink is empty. Mine is as well, allow me to order us another!” Thor swept up and away from the table and to the bar, leaving Bucky and Steve to themselves. Without Thor’s overwhelming presence Bucky was suddenly very aware of how close he sat to Steve and of how nice Steve’s thigh felt pressed up against his own.

It had become second nature for Bucky to tune out all of the extra noises he could hear now. But pressed up as close as he was to Steve he couldn’t help noticing that the other man’s heartbeat was practically racing. Maybe it was a super soldier thing? He wished he could ask him, compare some notes...

“Thor is not what I was expecting,” Bucky finally said when the silence had stretched on a little too long.

“Oh? What do you mean?” Steve turned towards him and for a moment Bucky had the wildest thought that if he leaned forward a tiny bit he’d be able to press his lips against Steve’s.

Bucky ripped his gaze away from Steve’s mouth and focused instead on his eyes. His dreamy blue eyes.

Had he just used the word _dreamy_ to describe someone?

Wait, what the hell had he been talking about before?

“Oh, just that he’s a lot more down to earth then I anticipated. I mean, he’s an actual prince, not some smuck from Brooklyn. I hadn’t expected him to be so friendly.”

Steve smiled, “I happen to like smucks from Brooklyn myself. But I know what you mean. He’s a fun guy, always ready to dive into something new. I kind of envy that about him.”

Bucky blinked in surprise.

“Really? Because, correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t a certain Steve Rogers literally dive into a World War II prison camp and single handedly rescue over four hundred men? That seems a bit like diving into something new if you ask me.”

Steve ducked his head, his smile turning a bit bashful. “Oh that, well, that doesn’t count. That was doing the right thing. Thor is, well, he’s always ready to dive into new social situations. It takes me a bit longer to… put myself out there like that.”

There was a tinge of sadness in Steve’s voice, an echo of loneliness that reverberated through Bucky's entire body. He had the urge to wrap his arms around Steve and give him a big hug.

“I wouldn’t be too hard on yourself. I imagine it can be difficult sometimes to put yourself out there knowing that a lot of people just want to be associated with the whole national icon thing... For what it’s worth though, I think you're a hell of a guy and not just because you run around throwing a big metal frisbee at people.”

Steve, who had begun to pick at the label of his beer bottle, stopped and a small little smile tugged at his lips. Bucky hoped that was a good sign and that his “raging loser crush,” as Becca called it, wasn’t too obvious.

“So, what do you like to draw?” He asked, hoping to steer the conversation to something a little less emotionally charged.

“I used to love drawing people. Believe or not, I thought that was going to be what I did for a career. I wanted to go to art school and everything but I couldn’t afford it and then the war happened and then, well…” Steve waved his hand as if to say, you know the rest.

“You ever think about going to art school now? Retiring and becoming an artist?”

Steve rubbed his neck, he was picking the beer bottle label in earnest now and Bucky wondered if he’d crossed some unknown line. He barely knew the guy and here he was asking all sorts of personal questions. He was about to apologize for his nosiness when Steve spoke.

“Sometimes. I was close to retiring a few years ago, then Hydra came back and one thing lead another and now… now I don’t know.” Steve sagged, as if voicing his thoughts had released a great weight.

Bucky wondered how many people Steve had admitted that to. He was willing to bet it was less than three. And somehow Bucky was one of them.

He knew most people would protest and tell Steve he couldn’t retire, that he did so much good for the world…

But Bucky knew first-hand the toll that war took on a person, the damage it did to be constantly fighting.

“I wouldn’t rule it out. You get to choose what you want to do with your life Steve. After all you’ve done for the world you deserve to be happy.” Steve’s fingers stilled on the bottle.

Bucky knew the moment he'd pushed Steve too far past his comfort zone. He could see the tension return to Steve’s shoulders as he built up those emotional shields and turned back to Bucky, a plastic smile stretched across his face.

“Thanks Buck. I doubt I’d be all that good at retirement anyway. I was made to fight and a man’s got to do his duty.” Bucky felt his heart tear a little bit at the over-rehearsed line.

There was silence for a few beats while Bucky debated saying what was on the tip of his tongue. Finally, he took a deep breath and turned to face Steve fully, making sure to look him square in the eye.

“I was good at fighting too. I was really good, so good they promoted me to Sergeant faster than most people reach Private First Class. Then my arm got blown off and I found myself a POW for two weeks,” Bucky held up a hand when Steve would have interrupted and pressed on.

“When I first got back I didn’t see anyway up or out. I’d lost my parents, my arm, the only job I’d ever had, and I didn’t think I’d ever be good at anything ever again. But I took what I had and I made it into a life I like, and yeah it took a lot of hard work and without Becca and my counselor I would have never succeeded. The path wasn’t anything close to a straight line but now I get to wake up everyday and know that I’m good at more than fighting. I’m good at teaching, I’m good at research, I’m good at trivia. I’m more than one thing and when things get frustrating or I get down I remember that. And, well, not to get all counselor on you here but you are more than Captain America and you get to decide what and who you want to be.”

Bucky’s heart lurched at the mix of emotions swirling in Steve’s eyes. On the table Steve’s hand moved closer to Bucky’s and, for a split second, Bucky thought the other man was going to take his hand in his own.

“Another drink for you scholar!” Thor plunked down another full glass in front of Bucky, effectively killing the mood.

Bucky wasn’t sure if he was relieved or upset at the interruption. What the hell had just happened between him and Steve?

“In Asgard it is traditional for the the one who brings the drinks to be told a story in return so you must tell me about your time as a warrior. For I have heard from my friends that you yourself were once in this nation’s Army.”

From anyone else Bucky wasn’t sure how he would have responded to such an imperious command. But coming from Thor, whose face was split into a wide and friendly grin, he decided he didn’t mind swapping a few stories about his unit's antics.

“Let me tell you both about the time one of my friends lost a bet to grow a handlebar mustache…”

The rest of the evening passed easily as the three men traded stories. When the clock hit midnight Bucky called it a night, waving away Steve and Thor’s offer to walk him home.

“Come on guys, I know you two have the market cornered on being badass but I do have a cyborg arm and a particular set of skills.” He waggled his eyebrows when Steve laughed at the reference and, with a wave over his shoulder, walked down to the subway stop.

Bucky could still hear that beautiful laugh echoing in his ears when he flopped into bed later that night.

***

“Steven, I must say I liked your Bucky very much. He would make you a worthy partner.” Thor said as the two of them stepped into the elevator of Avenger Tower.

“Wow, uh, thanks Thor.” Steve was quite aware that he was blushing. And that he really liked hearing Bucky referred to as _his._

“You are quite welcome my friend. It can be hard to find someone who understands our warrior way of life but I feel certain that he would take to it well. He truly cares for you.” Thor gave another of his beaming grins and clapped Steve on the back so hard that he almost fell over.

“Common room?” Thor asked as he studied the buttons carefully.

“Yeah, I need to eat something before I go to bed.” Steve leaned over and pressed the button for both of them. Thor was still getting the whole elevator thing down.

A few moments later the elevator doors opened to the common room.

It was dark and seemingly unoccupied, but as the two of them stepped out a light clicked on to reveal Tony sitting in an armchair, a scowl on his face.

Steve was positive the chair hadn’t been there earlier in the evening.

“Well, well, well, well, we—”

“Tony…can you please get to the point?” Steve sighed, exasperated after less than five seconds.

“How dare you?! How DARE YOU try to ROB me of the outraged speech I have been perfecting for _hours._ ”

Any other evening and Steve would have been willing to let Tony get on with his act, but his mind was still buzzing from his evening out. He wanted to get food and go back to his apartment where he could mull over everything Bucky had said.

Instead of listening patiently, Steve waved Tony along and mimed looking at a watch. Tony squawked in indignation.

“I come down for movie night and what do I find? Nothing, nada, no one, not even a note that movie night has been cancelled and my fellow _teammates_ have ditched me to go play trivia at some shitty bar!”

“Hey!” Thor, Steve, and Tony all looked up in surprise to find Clint sticking his head out of one of the air ducts. “It’s not shitty, hardly anyone gets stabbed there now that I took it over.”

Tony squawked again.

“Barton, get the hell out of my ceiling vents! For the umpteenth time they are meant for air, not your nest or whatever the hell you’re building.” Clint gave him the finger and disappeared back inside his vent.

“I get no respect around here! May I remind all of you that not only are we teammates but I let you all stay here RENT FREE because of our FRIENDSHIPS. But I guess I was kidding myself, I guess—”

“Tony, I have offered every month for the past however many years pay you rent and you _always_ refuse. If you were that upset about movie night you could have, I don’t know, _called_ one of us. Or, better yet, had Jarvis track our location—I know you love doing that shit.”

“Hey, you can’t swear! You’re not allowed to swear!” protested Tony.

“Anthony, Steven, that is _enough_! Calm yourselves.” Thor strode in between the two of them, his hands held up, his thunderous voice shocking both men into silence.

“Now, Anthony, it is as Steven says, you could have called us and asked where we were. The lady Pepper directed me to trivia this evening and I found Steven and Samuel with no trouble. However, Steven, it is true that you could have done a better job informing the rest of us of the change of plans.” Thor’s practice in arbitration was clearly paying off.

Steve and Tony both grumbled at the succinct, but accurate, analysis.

“Tony, honey, are you done being mad?” Pepper walked out of the elevator and into the common room. “Oh, hi guys, did you win this week?”

“Well, no.” Steve rubbed his neck awkwardly in the face of Tony’s triumphant grin.

“Then it’s settled, next week I’m coming with so you lot don’t continue to besmirch the Avengers name by loosing to some drunk barflies,” Tony declared.

Steve wondered if he could get away with pretending to be sick next week so Tony wouldn’t tag along. But then he wouldn’t get to see Bucky.

Maybe Tony would forget?

He shouldn’t have worried though, because in the small hours of the morning Steve was jolted awake by the obnoxious pinging noise that meant the Avengers were being called into action. He sleepily pulled on his uniform, hooked his shield onto his back, and made his way downstairs to the main conference room.

By the time he joined the others Tony had already pulled up a blurry image on one of the screens. The picture was one of the strangest things Steve had ever seen. Above a small coastal town there appeared to be a huge rip in the sky, reminiscent of the Chitauri attack on New York. This time instead of opening up onto distant stars, the hole opened onto a dark mass of squirming tentacles.

Something about the scene made Steve a little nauseous. Something about the tentacles, the rip in the sky, and the writhing mass it showed made his eyes hurt. Hell, it kind of made his brain hurt.

“I suppose it was only a matter of time folks. We’ve got ourselves a bonafide Cthulhu problem here.” Tony smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Steve had a strong suspicion that neither he nor Tony would make it to trivia next week.


	4. H.P. Lovecraft

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The good news is that I finally got this installment posted! The bad news is that there isn't as much Steve and Bucky interaction in this chapter, but there is a hell of a lot of Bucky being a BAMF. I do have two quick disclaimers: I have only been to NYC a handful of times so apologies if the directions or descriptions are wrong. Google maps can only take you so far. Secondly, I've taken some liberties with H.P. Lovecraft's work, so just go with it. Let me know what you think and happy reading!

The media was calling it the Eldritch Horror. Initially Bucky had rolled his eyes at the moniker, but as the Avengers continued to lose battle after battle against the monster the nickname began to seem a little too accurate.

During the first fight it had appeared that the Avengers would beat the mysterious creature handily. Thor had called down wave after wave of lightning, Hulk had smashed tentacles into pulps, while the rest of their team took out what they could. But no matter how many limbs they destroyed, more came through the portal. The fighting had gone on for hours until, all at once, it stopped. The tentacles slithered back from where they came, the rift sealed itself, and the Avengers had been left standing in the middle of a battle scarred field.

The media had pronounced it a resounding triumph.

The media had been wrong.

Two days later the creature appeared in Australia. A few days after that it was in Canada. Then the U.K.

For the next two weeks Bucky and the rest of the world watched as the Avengers raced from place to place fighting back the seemingly inexhaustible creature.

Reports flew in of the ill-effects people close to the rift suffered. Splitting headaches, violent nausea, and, in some extreme cases, a kind of fanatic worship of the creature that plagued communities even after the rift resealed itself.

The Avengers fought on, doing their best to get to each new location as quickly as possible. But by the beginning of the second week it was clear that all of the battles and non-stop traveling was taking a toll.

Bucky knew it was only a matter of time before someone got hurt and, in the fifth battle, he was proven right. Glued to the TV, he and Becca had watched from their cramped Upper West Side apartment as Sam’s wings were crushed by the tentacles and he was tossed aside like a broken toy.

The unconscious man had hurtled to earth like a meteor. Only Iron Man's quick movements saved Sam from becoming a smear on the ground.

Becca spent the rest of the night on her phone, and, while he didn’t pry, Bucky knew she was sending worried texts and trying to get updates.

Two days later Black Widow went down.

Bucky was teaching a lecture at the time, but he watched the video later during a lull in his office hours. The tentacle that caught her was nothing but a black blur as it wrapped around her waist and shook her viciously. The movement was so fast that even Bucky had trouble following it. After watching it for what felt like the millionth time the tiny suspicion that Bucky had been nursing over the past two weeks blossomed into a full blown conspiracy theory.

That night he made himself re-watch all of the battles. He watched videos from the media, from bystanders, anything he could get his hands on. He ignored the stack of papers calling his name and the trivia questions that needed writing. The more he watched the more convinced he was that his hypothesis was correct.

The media and political leaders around the world had come to the conclusion that the creature was a simple being, mindless and unaware of where it was or what it was doing. That it was durable, but ultimately stupid.

Bucky didn’t believe that for a fucking second.

The mountain of footage available showed how fast and destructive the monster could be—and how treacherous. Sam and Black Widow were both highly trained, highly experienced operatives, but they had been caught unawares by the monster. Previous to both attacks, the tentacles had seemed slow and clumsy. Yet as Bucky watched the videos he saw more and more tiny instances where the tentacles moved faster than by all rights they should.

The creature was toying with them. But why?

The question haunted Bucky, leaving him irritable and distracted at work. Finally, three days after Natasha had been taken out and with no other sightings of the monster to examine, Bucky bought H.P. Lovecraft’s complete works and began to read.

He was halfway through _The Haunter of the Dark_ when the description of the dreaded Shining Trapezohedron tugged at some half forgotten memory...

He marked his place in the story, opened his laptop, and pulled up the Metropolitan Museum’s homepage. Bucky got a lot of event invitations and newsletters from the various museums around town, including the Met. He was almost positive that he had seen something like the Trapezohedron in one of the recent issues. He pulled down the Upcoming Exhibitions tab and clicked on the first one he saw, “Art and Peoples of the Leng Plateau.”

Bucky scrolled down past the exhibition description to the images of the items on display and froze.

Front and center on the page was a picture of a small metal box. Carved with images of strange creatures it looked like some sort of cursed jewelry box. The next image showed the metal box open, a shiny red gem nestled inside.

Adrenaline exploded through his veins.

He opened a new tab on his browser and began to search for the so-called “Leng Gemstone.” There wasn’t a lot to find but what he did set off all of his internal alarms. Originally unearthed during an excavation in East Asia in the early 1800s, its owners had all come to gruesome ends. Three out of the four had been committed after reporting that they heard voices and commands. The last owner had fallen violently ill with unending headaches and a fanatic obsession with the object.

Bucky felt his neck hair stand on end as he continued reading through the Leng Gemstone’s blood-soaked history. The piece had finally been turned over to the Met around the turn of the century where it had languished in storage until being unearthed for the traveling exhibition.

A million thoughts crowded his mind. Could this really be connected to the creature? He opened yet another tab and located the exhibition tour itinerary, dread filling him as each location matched a spot where a rift had appeared.

He needed to get a hold of Steve.

“Becca!” He bellowed, stumbling from his bedroom and into their small living space, laptop clutched tightly to his chest.

“Becca!” He yelled again when there was no response from the other bedroom.

“What the hell is it Buck? It’s like 1 am!” She called back, sticking her head out of her room with a scowl. Her eyes were groggy, her thick black hair sticking up in all directions, a mirror image of himself.

“Becca, this is going to sound insane but listen to me carefully,” Her eyes sharpened at the tone of his voice and she quickly sat down on the well worn sofa. “I know what the creature wants. There is a trapezoid thing, that according to Lovecraftian stories, is capable of opening different dimensions. It’s currently being held at the Met, it’s part of a touring exhibition that’s opening there soon.”

As Bucky spoke he became even more convinced of his hypothesis.

Becca… wasn’t.

“Bucky, don’t you think that’s a bit of a stretch? Lovecraft was an anti-Semitic, racist weirdo who wrote science fiction stories practically begging for terrible inter-dimensional monsters to take over the Earth. Why and, more importantly, _how_ could any of his work be real? Why wouldn’t someone have noticed by now?” Her voice was soft, the way you would talk to someone who was harmless, but possibly having a mental breakdown.

“Look, I know you want to help Steve,” she continued. “Fuck, I’ve been racking my brain for how to help since I can’t get a hold of Sam and no one will tell me what’s happened to him, but I don’t think the answers are going to come from Lovecraft.”

Bucky understood what she was saying, he really did. She was right, his hypothesis was far fetched at best, the evidence that Lovecraft could have been writing scientific fact nonexistent. But Bucky knew in his bones that he was onto something.

He sighed, “Becca, I know it sounds crazy. I _know it does._ But the last time I ignored this feeling I ended up in a cave being tortured for two weeks.”

She sighed, and he knew he had her. No one could resist Bucky when he played the POW card. 

“Okay, what’s the plan? I don’t know about you, but I’m hardly qualified to take on a creature like that. I’m just an unemployed physics grad.”

“We’re not going to fight it. If the Avengers can’t put a dent in it then we have absolutely no chance. We need to get a hold of someone on their team and tell them what we know and we need to let the governor or someone up high know that this thing is looking for its gemstone. It’s only a matter of time before it tries to get it from the Met,” he explained.

“I’ll try calling the Governor’s office and the Met. You call the police and Avengers’ Tower and we’ll both try Sam’s phone,” Becca said, ducking back into her own room to grab her cell.

The next half hour was spent fruitlessly leaving voicemails. Finally, after all other phone number options were exhausted, Bucky borrowed Becca's phone for one last call to Sam. He just hoped that her familiar number would make someone pick up.

He couldn’t give up, even now Bucky shivered at the thought of all those lives the artifact had destroyed.

He could feel his time running out.

***

Steve couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken. The quinjet was silent, the remaining Avengers all sitting in their own misery. Even Tony was quiet.

The most recent update on their missing teammates wasn’t promising. Nat and Sam were getting worse.

When Sam had taken that hit the most pressing concern had been for his broken arm and ribs. But as he had stabilized it became clear that it wasn’t his physical state the team should be worrying about. It had started with a headache, then Sam had begun to forget things - names, places he’d been. By the time Nat had been injured Sam had begun to rant, to scream, and to struggle to escape the Tower, desperate to find “his master.”

Nat hadn’t succumbed quite so fast, but in the past 24 hours her state had deteriorated rapidly. Her last coherent directive had been for Tony’s team to sedate her and use restraints to keep her in her hospital bed. Sam had already done quite a bit of damage, Steve didn’t want to imagine how much damage Nat could do if she really lost control.

Any of them could be next. Steve’s head pounded constantly, a never ending hammer beating just between his eyes. He knew the others felt it too, heard the whispers in their ears. 

He couldn’t get his brain to think clearly, to puzzle out what the monster wanted.

At first there had been meetings, debates over strategy, discussions on how to defeat the creature once and for all. But now, now it felt like there was no point. Try as he might Steve couldn’t make himself do what he should; get up and call the rest of the team to attention, encourage them to talk through new ideas.

A loud buzzing derailed Steve’s increasingly erratic train of thought. It took him a moment to realize that the noise wasn’t in his mind, but that it was real, and coming from where Sam typically sat.

With a sigh Steve walked over and, seeing nothing on the seat, began to root around the cushion. He blinked in surprise when his hands brushed cool metal and he pulled out Sam’s phone. In all of the panic surrounding the other man’s injury and his increasingly alarming state the phone had been forgotten. Steve was surprised the thing still had battery after languishing for so long in the quinjet’s cushions.

Flipping it over, Steve saw that Sam had 20 missed calls and a mountain of text messages. His family had been contacted almost immediately and most of Sam’s friends had been on the scene when he had taken the hit. Who was calling Sam so incessantly?

Steve scrolled through the notifications on the screen, surprised to see that most of them had happened within the last hour—and that they were all from Becca Barnes.

Not for the first time, Steve’s mind jumped to that last image of Bucky, waving goodbye as he’d entered the subway. With a jolt, he realized that it had been almost three weeks exactly since he had seen the other man. Was Bucky thinking of Steve? What did he think watching Steve lose fight after fight?

As he held the phone it began to ring again, the name Becca Barnes flashing once more across the screen. Before he could think about it Steve hit the receive button.

“Hello?” Steve answered tentatively, his voice a little rusty from disuse.

“Steve?! Oh thank fucking god.” Steve felt a tiny burst of joy at the sound of Bucky’s voice, even if that voice was more panicked than normal.

“Bucky? What is it, what’s wrong?”

“Steve you need to listen to me, the creature is after an artifact called the Leng Gemstone. It’s in an exhibition at the Met that’s been on tour, every stop of this tour has been a place this thing has appeared. It’s looking for it!”

“Wait, slow down. What? How do you know this?” Steve asked, his mind a whirl. Tony’s people had been working nonstop to unearth anything they could about the creature with nothing to show for it.

“I know it sounds insane but let me explain,” Steve listened intently as Bucky laid it all out: the incongruities between the creature’s apparent speed and its attacks on Nat and Sam, the description of the object in Lovecraftian lore, the history of the object in the Met, and the correlation between the rifts's appearances and the tour stops.

Steve felt like the sludge in his mind was being washed away by Bucky’s clear, strong voice.

“Steve, I realize this isn’t concrete intel in any sense of the word. It’s honestly the flimsiest report I’ve ever put together in my life but my gut is telling me this is it. It’s going to try to lure your team away, and then it will strike, take what it wants and make the world watch as it defeats you and opens the boundaries between our two worlds. We need to destroy the gemstone.”

The evidence was pretty weak. But if Steve was being honest it was no more flimsy than some of the intel he’d acted on in WWII. And, well, Steve trusted Bucky. Maybe he shouldn’t, he’d only known the man for a few months with only a handful of interactions, but he trusted him.

“It’s the strongest lead we’ve had so far,” Steve said.

He’d already made up his mind. “We can be in New York in two hours.”

Bucky let out a breath on the other end of the line.

“Okay, that’s something. We’ve been trying to get a hold of someone official or someone at the Met but we haven’t had any luck. I think your people would probably have a better time of it. I'll go stakeout the museum and see what I can do, if you can convince the staff there to give me the object I can make a run for it out of the city, see if we can buy more time.”

The sense of calm that had been settling over Steve went up in smoke as Bucky outlined his plan. The idea of Bucky going up against this thing, trying to outrun it, was terrifying. Terrifying in a way that Steve didn’t have time to examine at the moment.

“Bucky, you don’t have to do that. We’ll get one of our people to pick it up and we’ll be there before you know it.” There was silence on the other end of the line and Steve could picture Bucky’s furrowed brow, his gray eyes flashing.

Steve tried again, “This creature… does things to you. It messes with your head.”

There was another pause before Bucky answered.

“I understand that this is dangerous but someone needs to get this thing out of New York and right now I’m the best guy for the job. I get that you guys have an intel team on your side and all sorts of lackeys but how many of them have spent years of their lives infiltrating some of the most dangerous territory in the world, working under pressure, and keeping a cool head? This is something that the normal security guard or research assistant is not equipped for. Hell, I have a god damned cyborg arm made by Tony Stark himself. I am the best guy for this job right now and you damn well know it.”

Steve took a deep breath and tried to settle his chaotic mind. Bucky was right, but the idea of putting him in harm's way, of Bucky facing that monster by himself… it made Steve feel like his stomach was trying to jump out of his mouth.

Still, Bucky was a veteran, an experienced soldier and he knew the risks. Steve had to respect his decision.

“I’m going to notify the governor and have him pull in the national guard to help evac. We’ll call the museum and explain the situation. You go and get that gemstone and get it out of the city,” Steve said aware that his team was started to crowd around him to listen.

“Who is that? What’s happening?” Asked Tony, apparently tired of only hearing one side of the conversation.

“Got it, I’ll do what I can,” agreed Bucky. “Make sure your team rests before you get here. It wants you weak.” Bucky voice was deadly serious and Steve suddenly had a very good idea of what he must have been like in the army.

“We will. Be careful Sergeant, that’s an order.”

“You got it Captain,” Steve could hear the grin in Bucky’s voice. He knew that if the two of them could see each other Bucky would have thrown him a salute just to be an asshole. “Really, don’t worry Steve, I’m tougher than I look.” And with that Bucky hung up.

For a moment Steve simply stood and looked at the phone, his mind replaying the conversation, savoring the calming tones of Bucky’s voice.

“Steve, Steve, EARTH TO STEVE!” He jolted back to himself.

“Who was that and what’s going on?” Tony demanded.

“Oh, uh, it was Bucky.”

“BUCKY! What does our good professor require?” asked Thor, his voice joyful for the first time in days.

“Yeah, what’s that one armed bastard calling about,” grumped Clint.

“Who the hell is Bucky and why does everyone else know him?” Tony demanded again.

“Before you have a tantrum, I don’t know him either,” said Bruce.

“Bucky is our trivia host, super cool guy,” explained Clint from where he was now slouching in Sam’s normal seat. “He was in your prosthetic program Tony, he’s got one of your cool metal arms, his real name is uhh… damn, what’s his real name again Cap?”

Steve rolled his eyes, “It’s James Barnes.”

“James, hmm,” Tony pulled out his phone and began to type on it rapidly. “James… damn that’s the only guy whose prototype worked. The lab is still running tests to figure out why but none of our other subjects were able to-“

“Tony, focus, please?” Steve sighed, maybe Tony being too sad to talk hadn't been that bad after all. “Set a course for New York, for the Met.”

Tony glanced up from his phone, took one look at the mulish set to Steve’s jaw and waved a hand over head, “You heard the man Jarvis!”

Around them the quinjet began to power up. As the others found their seats Steve laid out what Bucky had told him and the de facto plan.

“What? How? Why? How did some history professor find that out before my highly paid researchers?” Tony asked.

Steve shrugged, “Did any of them read Lovecraft?”

“No,” snorted Tony, “They’re data scientists not liberal arts students. I was joking with that Cthulhu stuff.”

“Well, there you go,” said Steve sharply.

“But that still doesn’t explain why you think he’s onto something! What’s this thing called again? I’ll look it up myself. I’ll get one of my lackeys to go get it. I don’t think we should be laying all of our hopes with some trivia hos—“

“Shut up!” Steve and Clint both yelled.

It was the best Steve had felt in days.

The Avengers always fought, mostly with each other. What they didn’t do was sit in silence and let themselves slowly give in to apathy.

Around him Steve watched as his teammates came alive. The whispering in his ears began to fade, his headache a secondary focus now that they were all talking again.

Steve just hoped they got there in time.

***

Bucky inhaled deeply and held his breath to a count of ten. On the exhale he pushed out all of his nerves and doubts. He had a job to do.

He left Becca in the kitchen and went to change out of his pajamas. He got dressed quickly, pulling on black tact pants, a plain black T-shirt, his leather jacket, and combat boots.

He pulled his hair back into a ponytail and, after a second's hesitation, grabbed his dog tags from where they sat gathering dust on his dresser. They’d always brought him luck before and right now he needed all the luck he could get.

Bucky felt a little odd going into battle without a gun, but he’d gotten rid of his when he’d moved back in with Becca. It probably didn’t matter anyway, if Mjolnir couldn’t do any lasting damage than a gun sure as hell wouldn’t.

When he walked out of the kitchen dressed for a fight Becca didn’t look surprised. She wasn’t dressed for a nice, safe night at home either. Her outfit was similar to his own: thick black canvas pants she’d bought during her goth stage in early undergrad, a thick black turtleneck, and a leather jacket over the top. 

“I’m coming with you,” she explained, a bit unnecessarily.

Bucky fought a brief battle with himself.

“Are you sure?” He finally asked.

“Yes,” she nodded. “I won’t be any safer in this apartment then I would be out there. I can make more of a difference going with you and watching your back.” She spoke in the same steely tone that Bucky had used on Steve only a few minutes ago. He knew there was no way she was staying behind.

“Fine, but you listen to any orders I give you without question, got it?”

“Yes sir, Sarge,” she threw him a small smile and then pointed towards the kitchen. “Should we take some knives or something?”

He shook his head, “We don’t have anything to hold them with and I really don’t want you to stab me by accident when we go over a bump or something.”

She walked into the kitchen and dug through a few cabinets before finally pulling out their mom’s old cast iron skillet.

“How about this?” She asked, twirling it a bit for show.

He shrugged, “Go for it, god knows neither of us cooks anyway.”

Skillet firmly in hand, she marched to the door.

It was a little surreal, Bucky heading into battle with Becca at his side. She might not have his experience or his abilities, but she was one of the few people he would trust there.

They jogged down the stairs and out onto the streets where the motorcycle was parked. The roads and sidewalks were practically abandoned this late at night. The sky above was a dark gray, the clouds low enough to cover the tops of the skyscrapers. A gust of wind blasted them in the face. It had a bite to it, a sign of winter's impending arrival.

“Looks like it might snow,” Becca remarked as she slid her helmet on and stored the skillet in the little bag on the side of the bike. For a moment, Bucky could almost imagine that it was another evening spent out with his sister.

Then he felt it.

A heavy pressure popped his ears, the clouds overhead began to swirl in eerie patterns, and around him the streetlights began to flicker.

He couldn’t see the sky above Central Park from here, there were too many buildings between his apartment and the large open space, but he was willing to bet that the rift was opening over the Met.

In his pocket Bucky’s phone began to buzz. He pulled it out to see an emergency alert notification. Steve must have gotten a hold of the powers that be. Bucky hoped that everyone seeing the notice would have the good sense to stay inside like it instructed.

Distant whispers filled his ears and the heavy atmospheric pressure began to increase.

“Bucky?” Becca asked.

“Yeah, I feel it. Come on, it’s now or never. We gotta get over there and grab that thing before it has a chance to.”

Bucky tuned out the whispers and ignored the pounding in his head. He pushed it all down and dug up the calm he’d perfected during his time in the Army.

He swung a leg over the bike and started the engine, uncaring of the racket it made in the too quiet New York night. With Becca’s arms wrapped tightly around him he took off, cutting east toward Central Park. Around them the lights of the city began to flicker out, leaving the streets completely dark. Bucky didn’t need that much light to see by, but the effect was still unnerving. 

He turned sharply onto Central Park West, zipping down the deserted street for a few blocks before taking another sharp left onto 86th. The road was even darker here among the trees, but without any buildings blocking the view he could see an eerie greenish glow reflected on the clouds overhead.

He heard Becca gasp as they sped out of the park and got their first glimpse of the rift. The jagged cut in reality was floating about two stories high, directly in front of the museum entrance.

What had seemed unreal and impossible on TV was overwhelming in person. The clouds above the tear swirled, the rift radiating an angry green light. It hurt his eyes to look at it and made his vision feel hazy.

He blinked a few times to try and clear his eyes. When he looked at the rift again, Bucky realized that there was something else floating above the museum.

It was a man.

The man’s back was to Bucky, a long cape floating out behind him as he hovered calmly in front of the entrance. He was making complicated gestures as he floated, sending balls of red-orange energy flying straight at the tentacles as they unfurled from the opening.

Becca’s arms squeezed tight as an unearthly scream flooded both of their minds. It made Bucky want to tear his own ears off. Instead he jumped the curb, pulled the bike to a neat stop at the bottom of the entrance, hopped off, and began to race up the staircase with Becca behind him. Above them the man continued to send strange balls of light at the monster, each strike sent mental screams reverberating through Bucky’s mind. It was like listening to nails on a chalkboard.

“Since when are wizards real and do you think he went to Hogwarts?” Becca yelled as they pelted up the stone steps. Somehow she’d had time to grab the skillet out of the motorcycle bag and was holding it aloft as they ran.

“Who cares? Be happy he’s here!” Bucky shouted back. If the wizard could keep the thing distracted long enough for them to break in and grab the gemstone they might have a chance to—

There was an deafening boom as something exploded above them. Besides him Becca was flung forward by the shock wave. Bucky's arm snapped out and he yanked her in close. Pulling them both to the ground, he curled himself around her as bits of cars and pavement flew everywhere. There was a rumble and large pieces of concrete began to fall off the surrounding buildings. He grunted as a particularly large piece of debris stabbed him right in the back, another bounced off his helmet.

After a few more moments the rumbling stopped and Bucky risked a glance over his shoulder. He turned just in time to see a huge red light blast out from the rift, hitting the floating man and sending him hurtling toward the ground. Without hesitation Bucky jumped to his feet to try and catch the other man.

With an oof Bucky caught the falling wizard, the impact sending him backwards onto the unforgiving stairs.

He was almost 100% positive that his back was completely black and blue by this point.

“Bucky are you okay?” Becca ran down the stairs to where Bucky and the man had landed. Nodding his head, Bucky lifted the man off of him and gently set him down on the stairs.

“Is he dead?” Becca was leaning over him when she suddenly gasped. “Bucky, it’s Strangest Thing!”

“What?!” Bucky looked down and, sure enough, if you looked past the blood flowing down his face, the man was definitely Strangest Thing.

“Okay, seriously, what is with my trivia and superheroes?”

“Bucky, that is so not the point right now. Not everything is about trivia!” Becca shouted, pushing Bucky out of the way to kneel by the man. Pulling off her jacket, she tried to rip off her sleeve for something to staunch the blood.

“No, you need the coverage.” Bucky protested. He pulled off his own jacket and ripped most of the left sleeve off, handing it to her for blood mopping. Then he pulled the jacket back on.

“Thanks,” she muttered as she turned the orphaned sleeve inside out and began to soak up the blood with the fleecy interior.

“To be fair, almost 50% of the trivia participants have turned out to be superheroes so you really can’t blame me for being surprised.” Bucky said, returning to the earlier conversation as he scanned the scene and took stock of their situation.

It looked like a bomb had gone off in the middle of 5th avenue. Food trucks and cars had been overturned, and a particularly large slab of concrete had been blasted off of a building a little down the street. It now lay at an odd upward angle, effectively blocking the entire street. They had been damned lucky nothing big had hit them or the motorcycle.

Above them the rift stretched. With a grotesque popping noise one large tentacle shot out from the gap and, ignoring them, punched straight through the front of the museum.

If Bucky was smart he would grab Becca and Strangest Thing and get the fuck out of there. But running now would only delay the inevitable. If that thing got the gemstone it would open up a permanent portal between this world and its own.

Nowhere would be safe.

“Becca, give me that skillet.”

“That won’t work.” Strangest Thing croaked. Bucky looked down in surprise. It was wonder the guy was awake with the head wound he was sporting.

“The only thing that can stop it is that.” The man held out a shaking arm and pointed to a small and dingy blue rock laying on the steps above them. It must have fallen out of his robes during his fall. At the man’s movement the rock shook and flew over to hover above his palm.

“A shiny blue rock? You want me to throw a shiny blue rock at this thing.” Bucky asked.

Strangest Thing snorted, or he tried to, instead he started coughing.

“The creature has hit me with some sort of binding spell. I cannot deliver this where it needs to go, but you can. It needs to be thrown through the rift, it needs to make contact with the creature. Once it touches the thing it will explode, collapsing the rift for good. Do it now while it is distracted and has its guard down.”

The man coughed again, blood staining his lips a bright red.

“Give to me.” Bucky held out his right hand only to have the goateed man recoil.

“You can’t hold it directly. That’s why I have it floating, even if you used a glove it would burn through the fabric and down to the bone in an instant. Professor you have to use your-“

“Cyborg arm, got it.”

Bucky shrugged off his helmet. “Becca, put this on Strangest Thing and get him someplace with cover.”

“Bucky you can’t be serious.” Becca said, “You’re going to throw a shiny blue rock at that thing and what… wait for it to explode all over you? I get that you’re not like the rest of us but how on earth are you going to get up high enough to have a straight shot?”

She had a point.

To have any chance of hitting that thing through the rift he would need to get some height. He scanned the area for something to launch off of, his eyes locking onto the huge concrete slab down on the road. It was wide and angled up towards the rift. It looked unstable as fuck but it was the best he was going to get.

“Becca, get him out of here. If this doesn’t work you need to meet Steve at Avengers Tower and bring the wizard to him. Got it?”

“I am not a wizard,” complained Strangest Thing, “I’m the Su-”

“From where I’m standing pal you’re a fucking wizard,” Bucky said, cutting the other man off.

“But Bucky, you ca-“ Becca began to protest.

“What did I say? No questioning orders and that’s a god damned order Becca. You take the wizard and go back into the park.”

She scowled but helped Strangest Thing up onto his feet and started down the steps. The blue orb continued to hover in place.

Above them a second massive tentacle slithered out of the rift and punched another hole in the side of the building.

Bucky didn’t have any more time.

He snatched the orb with his left hand and gasped as a shock of energy shot up his arm. Even though he couldn't truly feel anything with that arm, the vibrations and the energy the orb was putting out had him gritting his teeth. The air began to smell like melting metal.

Becca and the wizard had made it safely off of the staircase and were now hobbling away from the entrance. Reassured that they were in a relatively safe position, Bucky jogged down behind them and vaulted onto his bike. Revving the engine he screeched away from the entrance and towards the concrete slab, circling around it to the side that lay almost flush with the ground. In a turn that made the air smell like burnt rubber, he faced back the way he had come, lining his bike up with the slab as best he could.

With a screech the bike shot towards the makeshift ramp.

The whispers that had lurked just beyond his hearing got louder and a deep, bone crushing headache joined the vibrating sensation in his left arm. The smell of melting metal was getting worse.

The motorcycle trundled on beneath him, unaffected by the inter-dimensional monster it was racing towards or the mysterious blue orb it was helping to carry.

The beginning of the slab was barreling towards him at breakneck speed. He leaned closer over the handlebars, tears whipping from his eyes and his dog tags pulling at his neck.

He felt the attention of the monster shift and all at once the crushing weight of an alien consciousness began to shove its way into his head.

_Let go of the orb. Let go and be one with me little warrior._

The language made no earthly sense, its syntax nothing that Bucky could wrap his head around. The meaning was clear though, injected as it was so brutally into his mind.

He felt it dig through his brain, he felt its jolt of triumph when it found the fear soaked memories from his two weeks of captivity. Around him reality wavered, the destroyed city scape replaced by dark stone walls, the bike becoming a cold metal chair.

_Bucky had lost track of how many days he’d spent chained to the chair. He had lost track of the number of injections he’d been given and the number of cuts that had been made into his arm. Each one was deeper than the last and he knew with a cold certainty that it was damaged beyond repair._

_Somewhere in the distance he heard one of his fellow soldiers scream in agony. He would die here just as he always thought he would. They would never find his body and Becca would be on her own. He would never meet Steve, never help Steve defeat… something. Something he had helped Captain America with. But that couldn’t be right, why would Captain America need his help? Why would Captain America go out for drinks with Bucky? Laugh at Bucky’s jokes?_

_Something wet and cold hit his forehead. Some underground condensation dripping down from the cave ceiling? But the cave had never had water. It had always been as dry as a bone. Dry like the bone that glinted out of the ruined flesh of his arm.  
_

_Another soft pellet hit his face. Then another. Each splash refreshing and cold. It reminded him of… snow._

_It was snowing._

_Large fluffy flakes were pelting his face and mouth._ _There was no snow in the cave._

 **You aren’t in the cave** **.** _A tiny voice cried out._

**It is toying with you. Snap out of it Barnes!**

Bucky jolted back into himself, into the here and now. Only a second or so had passed, the makeshift ramp still zooming towards him.

He was free of the cave. Becca wasn’t alone. He had met Steve. He had made Steve laugh. He had started to fall for Steve.

Bucky was here and he had a goddamn job to do.

Time slowed as he jumped the small lip between street and concrete and zoomed up the slab at a ridiculous speed. He pushed the motorcycle faster and in one gut clenching instant launched it over the end of the ramp. The wind grabbed at his hair and the snow almost blinded him as Bucky leaned forward off of the bike and threw the orb with all of his might. The little blue ball sent out a burst of light as it entered the rift, shooting straight for the large alien eye that had blinked open on the other side.

For a brief moment Bucky and the creature looked at one another. 

And then he was falling.

The bike landed with a sickening crash that sent Bucky flying off and skidding across the tarmac. Pain shot up his left side as he scraped across the road, sparks flying as his mangled arm took most of the impact.

An unearthly scream echoed through his mind. He felt blood explode from his ears as the shriek continued. The tear in reality was almost directly above him now, churning and shuddering as it began to collapse.

Bucky watched in horror as one long tentacle snaked out from the rapidly closing rift and wrapped around his left leg. He screamed in pain as it jostled broken bones and pulled him towards the shrinking portal.

A shout of rage joined the mess of noise. Skillet in hand, Becca sprinted towards the tentacle and began to hit it wildly. It reared back in surprise, and, before it could strike again the portal snapped shut, severing the tentacle from its body.

Becca continued to bash it, blackish blood splattering her arms as she screamed at it.

“Not my brother you piece of shit! I’ll fucking kill you!”

After a few more whacks, she realized it was dead and stopped. She whirled to face Bucky and he wondered if he had the same crazed look on his face that she had on hers.

Reassured that he was okay she promptly bent over and threw up.

Bucky let himself slump down. He looked up at the snow filled sky, free of vortex and monster alike.

He wanted to lay here for a million years. His entire left side felt numb and his left arm looked like a chocolate bar left out in the sun.

He was definitely going to need to take a sick day or two.

The thought made him laugh.

“Bucky,” he choked down another laugh and looked up to see Becca leaning over him. She was crying.

“Aw, Becks come here you did great.” Bucky wrapped her in his good arm and continued to laugh uncontrollably.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Becca snarled, squeezing him close as he shook with hysterical laughter.

“I love you too Becca.” He gave her one more squeeze and then let himself pass out.

He figured he deserved it.


	5. All's Well That Ends Well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s the final chapter! Thanks to everyone who has left a comment, kudos, and/or was generally excited about this weird little story. I’m sad to let these characters go, they were a blast to write and hopefully were fun to read as well. I have a few potential ideas for a sequel or maybe some one-shots, but I probably won't write these until a little later in the summer. 
> 
> Per some great advice in the comments, I’ll be diving back into some of the earlier chapters throughout the next week or so to clean up grammar and spelling issues. If you see any mistakes in the meantime let me know.
> 
> Enough babbling from me, enjoy and thank you again for your support! <3

Despite his best efforts, Steve and the team arrived at the Met long after the battle was over.

As soon as the quinjet landed Steve jumped out to find police, military, and members of every alphabet agency imaginable milling around and arguing over jurisdictions. The museum itself had been cordoned off, as had everything within a five-block radius.

There was no sign of the monster, Becca, _or_ Bucky.

Steve marched up to the closest officer and tapped him on the shoulder. The man’s eyes practically fell out of his head when he turned to find Captain America staring down at him in full uniform.

“Excuse me sir, but was there a man and a woman here when you arrived? Both have black hair, the man has a metal arm?” Steve asked politely.

The officer stared blankly at Steve for a few moments.

“Do you mean the Winter Soldier guy?” He finally offered.

“Who’s that?” Steve asked, already frustrated with how long and fruitless this conversation was turning out to be. He needed to find Bucky ASAP.

The officer pulled out his phone, clicked open an app, and handed it to Steve.

There was a video playing. The footage was a bit shaky but it clearly showed one James Buchanan Barnes jumping a motorcycle off a slab of crumbling concrete straight at a tear in reality.

There was a sharp cracking noise as Steve squeezed the phone into approximately one million pieces.

“Shit man, my phone!” 

“Tony!” Steve shouted over his shoulder, his voice like a whip.

“What?” Tony yelled back from where he and Bruce were examining some scorch marks on the asphalt.

“Get this man a new phone,” Steve tossed what was left of the phone at the officer and jogged over to Tony and Bruce.

“Buy that guy a phone and find out where they took Bucky and Becca. I don’t care what laws you have to break—find them.”

Tony opened his mouth to protest but caught sight of Bruce shaking his head over Steve’s shoulder. He sighed and pulled out his phone.

While Tony searched, Steve focused on taking deep breaths and not destroying any more property.

“Good news everyone! Sam and Nat are no longer Cthulhu zombies,” Clint announced as he and Thor wandered over to the group.

Steve barely heard him. He was still thinking about that video. A million panicked thoughts were bouncing around his head, drowning out everything else.

“What was he thinking?” Steve finally burst out, unable to get the image of Bucky vaulting through the air out of his head.

“Whoa there, who are you talking about?” Clint asked.

"Look up 'Winter Soldier' online and watch the video.”

Clint whipped out his own phone and quickly located the video in question. He held out the screen so Thor and Bruce could watch over his shoulder.

Steve couldn’t bear to see it again, so he settled for pacing back and forth. There was silence for a few minutes while the three other men watched the video.

“Steve, you do realize the irony of this, right? This is a textbook Steve Rogers move right here.” Clint finally said.

Steve glared at Clint but didn't say anything. 

“My dear Steven, I have no doubt that both Bucky and his sister are receiving medical care. Anthony shall find them and then all will be well.” Thor gave Steve a comforting back thump, which at least put a stop to his incessant pacing.

Steve took a breath. He knew they were both probably in a hospital, but it definitely wasn’t anywhere near the level of care that they could _and should_ be receiving at the Tower.

“Found them, Cap,” Tony announced and rattled off the address of a local ER. Steve was off and running before Tony could even finish.

“He does know that we could drive there, right? Happy’s already here with a car.”

“I suppose he wants to do the romantic thing and run there,” Bruce commented mildly.

“...What?” asked Tony after a moment.

He looked from Thor to Clint, to Bruce, and back to Thor who shrugged his massive shoulders and smiled kindly at the other man’s confusion.

“Isn't it obvious?” asked Bruce. “The past few months Steve has been completely obsessed with researching this trivia host. Then as soon as the guy is in danger he makes us rush back here, only to freak out when he can’t find him? Cap's got a crush.”

Tony opened and closed his mouth a few times, looking a bit like a goateed fish.

“Right, well why don’t I take the quinjet back to the Tower and check on Nat and Sam,” Clint suggested. “Bruce you wanna ride? I’m guessing you don’t want to go to the hospital. That doesn’t seem like a place the big guy would love.”

“Anthony, let us go to the hospital and help Steven transfer his Bucky and dear Becca to the Tower.” Thor gestured to the SUV waiting for them.

When Tony continued to stand motionless Thor sighed and grabbed him by the wrist, dragging him to where Happy waited.

“Well, he took that better than I thought he would,” remarked Clint as he and Bruce walked back to the quinjet.

Bruce shrugged, “Tony doesn’t care about anyone’s sexuality. He’s just stunned and embarrassed that he didn’t figure it out himself. I mean, come on, anyone with two eyes could have seen it.”

Clint really couldn’t argue with that.

***

People were yelling.

Or maybe they were talking at a normal volume.

Bucky couldn’t tell, all he knew was that he could hear talking and it felt loud. Everything felt loud and everything hurt and life was terrible.

“Captain, sir, you don’t have permission to go into that room. You aren’t family and I will not break hospital rules for you.” The woman’s tone was firm and no-nonsense.

“I understand. I really do, but please let me peek inside. I won’t disturb him, I promise.” Bucky’s heart lurched at how desperate the man sounded.

Or maybe his heart was lurching because of all the blood Bucky was losing. Was he losing blood? It felt like he was losing a lot of blood.

“Sir, I will call security if I ha–”

“Look, I’m begging you, please let me see him.”

Bucky didn’t understand what was going on, but he wished that everyone would go away and let him bleed out in peace. Was that seriously too much to ask?

“Ma’am, you can let him in, I give permission.” Becca’s voice sounded thin and worn but it calmed the rising panic that had been building inside of Bucky. Wherever they were and whatever was going on she was safe and alive.

“I don’t know–” the other woman protested.

“Look, I appreciate you doing your job and keeping out the reporters but this man is a national hero and a close friend of the family. Now, as my brother’s power of attorney I authorize him to enter this room–”

What was Becca talking about? Bucky tried to focus, to remember where he was and why but her voice began to fade out and Bucky was once again sucked into unconsciousness.

***

Bucky was in a helicopter. He’d recognize that rhythmic thrum-thrum-thrumming noise anywhere.

He’d finally been rescued. The nightmare was over.

A blast of cold air came hit him straight in the face and he recoiled.

Pain shot down his left side. He tried to scream but his throat was so dry nothing came out. He hurt everywhere. His head, his back, his legs, his entire left side.

“Shhh, it’s okay Buck. We’re almost there and then we’ll give you something for the pain I promise.” The voice was a life preserver in an ocean of pain. A warm hand cupped his face and he felt a gentle finger smooth his brow.

The touch steadied him and Bucky felt the darkness pull him back down.

***

The steady beeping of a heart monitor woke Bucky for good sometime later.

His vision was fuzzy. He lifted his arm to rub his eyes and discovered that not only was his right arm attached to an IV but his left was completely gone. Again.

That really woke him up.

He was in a hospital room. A very fancy one. He fumbled for the bed remote and tried out the buttons until he found the one that would elevate his upper half. His ribs and back felt sore, his head was throbbing and his entire left leg was in a cast and held aloft by wires.

As he slowly moved upright he surveyed the rest of his fancy-schmancy surroundings and shuddered at the sight. Everything that could be stainless steel was, the paintings on the wall looked like they’d been done by actual artists, not reproductions printed and framed on the cheap.

As he shifted around in his state-of-the-art bed he had the distinct feeling that the sheets were nicer than anything he’d ever slept on.

How much was this bullshit costing him?

The door to his room opened and Bucky winced at the sound. His hearing was overly loud, he shut his eyes and focused on turning down the noises.

“Buck?” His eyes shot open at the voice.

What the hell was Steve doing here?

“Steve?” Bucky's voice sounded like it had been run over a few times and then left for dead, but evidently, Steve didn’t mind because he lit up like a damned Christmas tree.

“You’re awake!” Steve beamed at him.

“It would appear I am.” Bucky smiled back and shrugged. The movement brought his attention back to the empty space where his left arm should be.

“I guess it couldn’t be salvaged?” Bucky nodded towards his missing arm and ignored the pang in his chest.

He’d lost it before, he could learn how to live without it again.

“Yeah,” Steve said, his smile fading. He moved further into the room and took the chair next to Bucky’s bedside.

“Tony said he’d build another though. He’s been babbling about making it alien proof.”

“Well, maybe he should hold off until I get the bill for this place. I don’t know where Becca had them take me but this room looks like it's gonna cost me my other arm.” He gestured at the lavish layout, a little annoyed when the IV prevented him from fully extending his arm.

“Bucky, you don’t have to pay anything for this, you’re in the Tower. We’ll cover it,” Steve explained gently.

Bucky was stunned. He’d always paid for everything.

“Why would you bring me to the Tower?”

“You saved the world Buck, I think it’s the least we can do.” Steve’s voice so deadly serious that Bucky had to remind himself that under no circumstances did he blush.

“So, what do you remember of the past few days?” Steve continued.

That was a very good question.

“I remember everything about the fight, but after my fall things get a bit hazy. God, I almost wish I didn’t remember it at all, staring into that thing’s eye was terrifying...” he trailed off, lost in the memory of his stomach dropping out and the startling realization that he couldn’t pull his gaze away. He was lucky he’d fallen when he had and that Becca had been there to fight off the—

He shot straight up and winced at the movement. “Where’s Becca, is she okay? She got some alien blood on her has she been–”

“She’s fine Bucky, she’s okay,” reassured Steve. He gently laid one of his hands on Bucky’s chest and pushed him back down. Bucky’s brain temporarily short circuited. Steve was _touching him._

The other man’s hand lingered and Bucky felt his heartbeat speed up in response. The heart rate monitor beside the bed began to go haywire.

It was pretty fucking embarrassing.

Thank god Steve seemed to think it was Bucky’s concern for Becca that was causing it.

“Really Bucky, I promise she’s okay. The blood burned her skin a little bit but our doctors cleaned her up and ran some tests and she'll be completely fine. There won’t even be any scarring. She’s been running back and forth between your room and Sam’s but she should be here soon.”

“What? Can’t she even devote herself to her long-suffering brother? Typical.” Bucky cried in mock-outrage, desperate to distract Steve from the still racing heart monitor. “How is Sam doing?”

Before Steve could answer Bucky’s throat began to tickle and a coughing fit overtook him.

“Oh duh, god I’m doing a terrible job as a nurse right now,” Steve jumped up and walked over to the corner of the room where a beautiful glass side table stood. On the table was an honest to god crystal pitcher with real drinking glasses. Steve poured out a glass and brought it back to Bucky, who was still coughing weakly.

“Thanks,” Bucky gasped after guzzling the water down. “So, Sam’s okay?”

“What?” Steve tore his gaze away from Bucky’s lips and Bucky felt a little bit of heat curl low in his stomach. That couldn’t mean what he thought it meant. Steve was just making sure Bucky didn’t have trouble drinking the water...

If Becca had heard that thought she would call him a complete moron.

“Sam?” Bucky tried again, all too aware of how blue Steve’s eyes were as they stared into his own.

“Oh, yeah, right, he’s doing okay. Once you blasted the rift shut he and Nat kind of snapped back. Both of them appear to be in control of their actions again, but we’re still running some tests to make sure there’s no permanent damage or hidden compulsions.”

Steve paused here as if debating his next words. “I think of the two of them Nat is taking it the best. She asked to be put under before she completely lost control and was unconscious for most of it. Sam on the other hand… well, I’m glad he’s got Becca here to distract him a bit. She’s been a big help.”

Steve’s shoulders had tensed up as he spoke and Bucky wondered what exactly had happened to Sam. Now wasn’t the time to ask, but Bucky made a mental note to check in with Becca and see how she was dealing with everything.

He decided to change the subject. “What happened to the wizard?”

“Dr. Strange? He’s doing fine I think. He got taken to the same hospital you did but he said he wanted to stay there when we offered to move him. It was actually kind of a relief,” Steve admitted. “He was micromanaging everyone in his room and since Tony was starting to shout about how magic wasn’t a real thing it seemed like a good idea to leave him.”

“Wait, wait, wait, his name is _Dr. Strange_?” Bucky couldn’t help it, he started to laugh. “I guess I finally get his team name now.”

Steve raised his eyebrows in question.

“You didn’t recognize him? That man is the leader of Strangest Things. He and his friend are the two that keep beating you guys in trivia.”

“What?” Steve shouted, half-standing out of his chair. Bucky laughed again, holding his ribs as his sore body protested. “Oh, ow, okay don’t make me laugh anymore.”

Steve sat back down abruptly, leaning in to place a comforting hand on Bucky’s suspended leg. Even though he couldn’t feel Steve’s hand through the cast, the other man’s gesture still put Bucky at ease. He leaned his head back against his pillow and shut his eyes.

“So, since Becca’s not here it’s up to you to tell me the extent of the damage,” Bucky waved across his body. Whatever drugs they were giving him were way better than what he normally got, which tended to burn out of his system too fast to do anything.

He heard Steve let out a large sigh, “You shattered your left femur. Broke three ribs on the same side, bruised the rest, and have a pretty major concussion. You also bruised your spine and fractured your left tibia. As for your left arm, well, it was completely melted. Tony is shocked you were able to move your arm at all much less throw that orb.”

Bucky opened one eye and looked at Steve. His jaw was clenched, his fingers curled into fists, and his eyes distant as he recalled the battle he’d missed.

“You mad at me Stevie? Don’t try to tell me you wouldn’t have done the same.” Bucky winked but knew the effect was ruined by how swollen his left eye was. That was his best winking eye damn it.

When Steve didn’t answer, Bucky closed his eyes again. The room had begun to spin a bit and exhaustion was rolling over him.

He had started to drift off when Steve spoke again. “There’s a video of it you know.”

“Huh?” Bucky asked, like the highly educated man he was.

“Some dumb idiot recorded the entire encounter between you and the creature.” Steve paused for a few seconds before continuing. He scooted his chair closer to Bucky and leaned forward, his giant hands clasped tightly together, his blue eyes pinning Bucky in place.

“I’ve done some scary things in my life Bucky. Burying my mom, getting the serum, crashing the Hydra bomber into the ice, hell adjusting to this time and place was terrifying. But watching that video...” Steve’s jaw clenched so hard that Bucky could hear teeth grind.

“Watching that video of you launching right at that thing, the concrete crumbling beneath you, that magic orb melting your arm right off your body… that was the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Okay, how the hell was Bucky supposed to respond to something like that?

He looked into Steve’s eyes and finally saw the fear and worry that lived there. Fear and worry _for him_.

It was, well, it was surprising and intimidating and confusing and a million other emotions that Bucky couldn’t process right at this moment.

The only thing he was sure of was that he didn’t ever want to be the reason Steve was sad or worried or scared again. He didn’t want Steve to be anything other than happy.

“Steve, it’s okay. _I’m okay_. You don’t need to worry about me, I promise I'm very hard kill.” Bucky tried to be reassuring but knew he failed miserably as Steve’s expression shuttered.

“That’s something else I want to ask you about,” Steve leaned back, crossing his arms and Bucky knew he was in for it.

“When you arrived at the hospital your femur was practically pulp. I’ve seen the X-rays. They were talking about amputating. Becca protested, asked them to do another X-ray and for whatever reason, they listened to her and looked at it again. Low and behold, the bone wasn’t nearly as destroyed as they thought and they decide to try resetting it.”

Bucky squirmed under Steve’s stare. He was so, so fucked.

“That was four days ago. Now the doctors tell me that not only is your bone healing perfectly, but that it looks like it was injured months ago. They’re saying that if that first X-ray is true your healing ability would rival my own. Hell, it might even be better. Now tell me, how is that possible?” Steve’s voice had the firm, no-nonsense tones of someone who was not going to let this go.

A silence stretched between them until, finally, Bucky shrugged lopsidedly. “I don’t know what to tell you, Steve, I really don’t. All I know is that I got captured and held for two weeks in a cave and when I got out of it I had certain… abilities.”

Steve continued to stare, waiting.

Two parts of Bucky waged war with each other. He had kept this secret, this part of his life under wraps for so long that the urge to deny and deflect was as natural as breathing. But a small, soft part of him wondered what it would be like to have someone besides Becca to talk to, someone to help answer his questions and keep his secrets.

Steve had trusted him, had come running back to New York on one of Bucky’s crazy hunches. He had been upfront about what was going on with Nat and Sam. That kind of trust could only be one-sided for so long before it disappeared completely.

Bucky closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I have dreams about it sometimes so I know the memories are up here somewhere,” he tapped his head with a wry smile.

“The dreams are just bits and pieces. Needles, samples being taken of my temperature, my skin, my blood. When they rescued me they ended up blowing the whole cave system to bits and I’m happy they did. I hope they destroyed every scrap of my DNA that those fuckers took,” Bucky wasn’t even aware that he was tensing up, that his voice had become a snarl until Steve rested a hand on his leg. The touch was enough to ground him, to help him keep talking.

“I didn’t know anything was different until a few weeks after I got discharged from the hospital and sent back to Brooklyn. I was angry, about a lot of things, and I kept squeezing drinking glasses so hard that they would explode all over the kitchen. I slammed our front door and the frame shattered. But no one had said anything at the hospital so I wrote it off as general anger or PTSD. Becca was the first person to really notice it, to help me realize that I wasn’t going crazy. By that point, I’d signed up for Stark’s program and they hadn’t said anything either so I decided to keep my mouth shut. I was feeling more stable, I’d gotten back into school, and I didn’t want to be another experiment so I kept my head down.” He finished with another shrug.

Steve was looking at Bucky so intently that he felt like he might melt. He shifted in the hospital bed, uncomfortable being the focus of so much scrutiny.

“Thank you for telling me the truth,” Steve finally said. “I don’t blame you for not advertising it, but you’ve got a decision to make now. With that video all over the place, people are going to start to wonder. Tony’s got the best PR team in the business though so you say the word and we’ll try our best to bury it.”

There was so much kindness in Steve’s words, in his gesture, that Bucky was mortified to feel his eyes prickle a little bit. If he started crying right now he swore to god he would smother himself with his own pillow.

“I think I’ll probably have more questions later but there is one that I need you to answer right now.” Steve sat back, his voice and face the picture of seriousness. “If you have the serum, why do you wear glasses?”

And just like that Steve’s face blossomed into the biggest shit-eating grin that Bucky had ever seen.

“Because he’s a fucking hipster with more hair than sense,” A voice answered before Bucky could. He looked up to find Becca in the doorway. Her face was scrunched up in a desperate attempt not to cry as she stormed into the room, side-stepped Steve’s chair, and wrapped Bucky in a punishing hug.

He ignored the protests of his ribs and squeezed her right back.

“You absolute moron. I could kill you myself I swear to god–” As Becca began her rant Bucky looked back to the chair where Steve sat, only to find it empty.

***

Steve had been alone a long time.

Once his ma had died it had been him against the world. For a little bit he had had Peg, but that had barely even begun before it had been over.

In recent months the loneliness had begun to recede, the result of his efforts to be more open and engaged with his teammates.

But with this new discovery, Steve felt like his isolation had finally come to an end. He was no longer one of kind.

Bucky was like him.

Steve had a lot of feelings about this particular revelation but first and foremost was, well, relief. He knew that anyone he brought into this world, into this life, had to be tough and Bucky had proven himself to be one of the toughest people Steve had ever met.

After being moved to the Tower Bucky had been unconscious for four days. Steve had taken turns with Becca sitting by his bedside, in theory filling out mission reports, but in reality, alternating between watching Bucky breath and watching that video of Bucky making his death-defying jump.

Now that Bucky was awake Steve supposed it didn’t make sense to keep watching it. But as he sat in his apartment he found himself pulling out his phone and opening up YouTube to play it again.

By all rights Bucky should be dead. Had he been anyone else he would be. Steve winced as he watched Bucky crash into the ground, the motorcycle skittering out from under him, coming a hair's breadth away from crushing Bucky’s skull. It didn’t matter how many times he watched it, or that Bucky was alive and on the mend a few floors below, the video still made Steve’s stomach lurch and his heart drop.

Steve had never watched someone he cared about do something so monumentally reckless. When Steve thought about all the ways Bucky’s plan could have gone wrong, of how close he’d come to losing Bucky without ever having a chance to tell him how he felt…

Well, it put a lot of things into perspective for Steve. The most important of which was that he was done wasting time.

***

Bucky could barely keep his eyes open during Becca’s visit so he didn’t see the infamous video until the following morning. Naturally, it was Clint who showed it to him.

It was a bit surreal to watch himself roar up the makeshift ramp and vault off the edge. Without the left sleeve of his jacket his cyborg arm was on full display, the metal slowly melting as the blue orb he gripped shimmered and shook. His jaw was clenched, his eyes laser-focused on the monster ahead. At some point in the evening, his ponytail had fallen apart freeing his hair to whip around behind him.

The video cut out shortly after Bucky’s crash and Becca’s heroic appearance and he was a bit relieved that the person who’d taken the video hadn’t caught his hysterical laughter and subsequent blackout. Both would have severely undercut the whole badass thing he had going on in the rest of the footage.

“If I don’t get tenure after this then there’s no hope for me,” he announced after the video cut out. He looked down at the stack of papers Becca had brought him from home. He was still working out the details of his absence with Columbia, but he wanted to try and be back within the next two weeks. He’d have to be on crutches or a wheelchair for awhile to keep up the “I’m definitely not a super soldier” ruse but that was okay.

“You just be glad you didn’t die you fucking idiot,” muttered Becca from where she sat in the chair next to his bed, book in hand.

“Did you know you're still trending on Twitter? They’re calling you the Winter Soldier. Pretty fucking metal, right?” Clint had somehow wedged himself onto the tiny window sill and was scrolling through his phone, occasionally pulling up a Buzzfeed article or a particularly funny meme of Bucky to show them.

“What does that name even mean?” Bucky asked, looking up from the papers he was grading.

“Well, I guess the winter thing came from all of the snow that was flying in your eyes and making you look badass and the soldier part is from the dog tags around your neck. Plus the internet dug up information on your service.” Clint explained, only half paying attention.

He was enjoying the memes way too much in Bucky’s opinion.

“Becca you’ve got a nickname too,” Clint added.

“Really? What is it?” She sat up in her chair a bit excitedly. “Is it Girl Who Kicks Ass? Monster-Killer? I’d be okay with either of those.”

“It’s Tangled,” said Clint with a sly grin.

“Tangled, what the hell does that mean?” She demanded.

“I think it’s because of the frying pan. You know from that Disney movie?” Bucky explained distractedly, scribbling down another comment on the paper he was reading.

“What? You got a badass nickname like the Winter Soldier and I got Tangled?!” Becca slammed her book shut and dug out her own phone for confirmation. A quick Google search revealed an endless number of images from the video. In all of them, she was captured in action, her mouth open in a scream of rage, her hair flying in all directions as she brought the frying pan down on the errant tentacle.

“Well, your hair is pretty fucked up in that picture.” Bucky teased.

“Fuck you Bucky.” She sneered, throwing her phone back into her purse with a huff.

“Am I interrupting something?” Steve asked from the doorway. His massive arms were crossed, threatening to send his shirt to an early grave.

“Oh the usual sibling bickering,” Clint said, hopping down from the window frame with his eyes still glued to his phone. “Later Barneses,” he waved over his shoulder, muscled past Steve, and was gone.

Clint was honestly one of the weirdest people Bucky knew.

“Well if Steve’s gonna be in here to make sure you don’t do anything stupid I’m going to go check on Sam,” Becca said, jumping up from her chair and making a beeline for the door.

And then it was just the two of them.

Bucky stared at Steve, unable to tear his gaze away.

Finally, after a long pause, he cleared his throat and lay his papers aside.

“You're already working again?” Steve asked as he sat down. He made no attempt to hide the disapproval in his voice.

“Yeah, well, I’m taking the next week or so off but if I heal as fast as they think I will I figure I might as well get back at it, even if that means faking it in a wheelchair for the next few months.”

“So I take it you’ve decided to keep the serum under wraps?” Bucky couldn’t read Steve’s tone. Was he disappointed? Relieved? Did he want another super soldier on the team?

“Yes, if possible. The thing is Steve, I’ve worked hard to get where I am, to build a life for myself that’s not just… fighting and I want to keep it that way. That doesn’t mean I’m not still around to help you guys but, I like retirement,” he risked a glance and was surprised to find the other man smiling.

“That sounds like a good plan, I think… well, I think I’d like that too someday. Lately, I’ve been thinking about my future. About what comes next for me.”

Steve let out a deep breath and scooted the visitor’s chair closer, slowly resting a hand on Bucky’s elevated leg.

“Bucky, people always say I’m a brave guy but I think they’re wrong. I’ve been coward.”

Bucky opened his mouth to protest but Steve shook his head. “No, let me finish. I’m a coward because the fact is I’ve wanted to ask you out from almost the first moment I saw you. When I say I’ve been thinking about my future and what I want, what I mean is… I want you."

Bucky gaped. Was he hallucinating? This couldn’t be happening, right? Amazing things like this didn’t happen to _him._ He opened his mouth and then quickly shut it again.

Steve pushed on, his next words coming out in a bit of a rush. “You are one of bravest, kindest, most genuine people I’ve ever met and I want to take you out for coffee, or dinner, or to the movies, or wherever the hell you want. Just say you will go out on a date with me. Say you’ll give me a chance with you.”

Bucky’s heart monitor was beeping so hard he was surprised it hadn’t given up and exploded already.

_Say something, you idiot!_

But Steve had rendered him utterly speechless. So he did the next best thing. Ignoring the stabs of pain from his various body parts, Bucky grabbed Steve’s hand, pulled him in close, and kissed him.

Steve’s lips were warm and firm and even though the angle between them was awkward and Bucky’s entire body hurt like a motherfucker it was the best kiss of his life.

So it stood to reason that his sister would be the one to ruin it.

A long low whistle had Bucky jerking his head back. Becca, accompanied by almost every Avenger in the building, was crowded around the door. They all sported identical idiotic grins.

“Can’t a guy get some fucking privacy in this place?” He yelled at them.

“No,” said Clint, who had gotten popcorn from somewhere and was slowly eating it as he watched. Becca was still catcalling, her hand on Sam’s arm while the other man grinned and gave Steve a thumbs up.

“I AM SO HAPPY FOR YOU MY FRIENDS!” Boomed Thor, he seemed ready to rush in and hug both of them at once. Luckily, Natasha had had the foresight to keep a restraining hand on his arm.

“Alright, that’s enough gawking everyone move along,” she announced to groans. But before she could herd them away Tony barged into the room.

“Did I miss it? Did I win the bet?” He looked from Steve to Bucky and back to his teammates before grabbing a handful of Clint’s popcorn and stuffing it in his mouth.

He pointed at Bucky as he chewed, "I’m gonna want to start running tests as soon as you’re mobile."

“Okay, really that is enough, everyone get out!” Steve commanded, making shooing motions with his hands.

Nat grabbed Tony by the arm and dragged both him and Thor away. Becca and Sam followed suit, but not before Becca shot a large wink in their direction. Clint trailed along behind them all, happily munching on his popcorn.

“So is that a yes to going out with me then?” Steve teased, turning back to Bucky now that their audience was gone.

“Of course it’s a yes you big idiot. Steve, I don’t think you know how amazing you are. But I fully intend to show you, now bring that pretty face of yours back over here. I’m an invalid and I hear kissing makes things heal faster.”

When Bucky was officially discharged a few days later he gave Steve all of the credit for his swift recovery.

***

**Five months later...**

“Alright everyone, let’s go over the rules,” Bucky announced, making a point to look at the back table.

Whenever Tony came to trivia Bucky made sure to review the rules. It didn't seem to help all that much, the man was hardwired to break rules, but Bucky liked to try anyway.

At the moment Tony wasn’t even paying attention. Instead, he was chucking popcorn at Bucky’s new co-host.

If Steve was bothered by having popcorn pelted at him he didn’t show it. He was gamely catching each kernel in his mouth. The way his tongue kept snapping out to catch them was very distracting.

Calling upon months of practice, Bucky ignored his very distracting boyfriend and finished reciting the rules.

“Alright folks, here’s question one and it’s a doozy. Shakespeare wrote three plays that are characterized as “problem-plays,” or plays that are neither a comedy nor a tragedy. Name one of these three plays.”

There were groans from the back table and Bucky grinned. He loved it when he stumped Stark.

“I object to this terrible question Barnes!” Tony called.

“Would you shut-up Stark and answer the question?” Dr. Strange yelled back.

Bucky laughed. He really couldn’t believe this was his life. The past few months had been a bit of a whirlwind. The brilliant Pepper Potts and her PR team had spun Bucky’s super soldier abilities as temporary side effects from Dr. Strange’s magic. A story that the media and the general public was happy to buy, and one supported by the crutches Bucky was still using in public.

What had really thrown Bucky into the spotlight though had been his relationship with Steve. It seemed like everyone had something to say about the fact that Captain America was not only bisexual but was dating a long-haired, one-armed veteran who taught history at Columbia. Bucky had avoided the news and social media for awhile and waited until the next celebrity scandal had come along. Thank god the Kardashians had decided to all have babies at the same time. He and Steve were old news now and they were both happy to have the limelight off of them.

Becca had also had a hectic few months. She and Sam were officially dating and Bucky had given them his gold star of approval. Sam had actually looked touched when Bucky had pinned the little gold badge to his shirt. Becca had glared.

She’d also started working at Stark Industries, putting her physics degree to use as a data analyst in one of their labs. “We could use the kind of out of the box thinking she displayed with that frying pan,” said Pepper.

“Plus she won’t put up with anyone’s shit,” chimed in Tony.

Bucky was really proud of her, but between that and a more active dating life, she didn’t have time to play co-host anymore.

Luckily Bucky had known the guy to step into the role.

“Why don’t you read the next one Steve?”

He handed the mic over and allowed himself a moment to soak the other man in.

It was all so surreal at times. How had he, regular old Bucky Barnes ended up with someone as wonderful as Steve Rogers?

As if reading his mind Steve looked over at him and blew him a kiss.

Bucky rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop his mouth from curling up into a smile. From the back table came a series of whistles and catcalls.

“Would you all please shut up?” Dr. Strange shouted at the rowdy Avengers.

Bucky laughed and took the question sheet back from Steve. He really was the luckiest guy in the world.


End file.
